Hunting goblins for fun and profit
by sailor gaav
Summary: Takes place on the middle of the OAV. On the way to Wort's tower, the group encounters a village that is less than cooperative. -Finished-
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimers, etc: Of course, I don't own Lodoss, but I love the series, and wish I could

Disclaimers, etc:Of course, I don't own Lodoss, but I love the series, and wish I could.But…I'm a bit of a freak.While I find Deedlit, Parn, Ashram and Pirotess to be cool characters, and very likable, they're not my favorites.My favorites are more along the lines of, say, Slayn, Etoh, and Woodchuck.ducks as bricks,water elementals, and Demon swords are tossed her waySo, this story is mostly starring them, and I get everyone else out of the way in the first chapter.Hopefully a few people will still want to read it.It takes place in the middle of the OAV, on the journey to Wort's place, and after the bit in the dwarves' tunnels.Um…let's see…since I also want to take these characters and flesh them out a bit, this first chapter is mostly walking and arguing.There will be more of that later, but also some actual fighting eventually, I promise.Let me know if you think I'm writing anyone wrong, especially Etoh.Since I'm writing this almost entirely from his perspective, I don't want to sell him short by making him a generic narrator.And…that's it.Enjoy.

When map-makers draw the various sections of Lodoss, they often add little stylistic details that give a nod to the continent's mysterious and supernatural status.There are dragons lurking in the largest mountains, elven faces peering out of the Forest of No Return, and, perhaps to re-assure a mostly magic-less humanity that the world really isn't out to get them, a happy smiling sun watching over the whole thing.Inevitably, a happy smiling sun, with rosy cheeks, golden rays shining down from his beaming face.

Etoh wanted to kick those map-makers.It was not a charitable thought, and he was peaceful by nature, but the image of a happy, smiling sun beating down on them while the sweat soaked through his robes made him feel a little ill.Or maybe it was the heat.They had encountered chilly rain on the way to the dwarven tunnels, but then the trail had run down out of the mountains onto a grassy set of hills, with clear skies and no trees for cover.It was hot, even in the gathering dusk, and it made what should have been easy going more of an ordeal.

"Let the spirit feed the body, inner strength will become outer," he told himself firmly.It was one of the sayings of the old wandering priests, he'd learned it at the monastery.It was a little more difficult to swallow when his feet hurt, and his body was being roasted, but Etoh was an idealist.He began to run through the thirty-second prayer to Falis, hoping to take his mind off things.

"Soooooo….if this mission is really that important, why didn't the king spring for a couple of horses?"asked Woodchuck, breaking a good half-hour's silence.

"Shut up," thought Etoh irritably.The man had no right to complain.He, like Ghim, had the ability to walk all day without ever seeming to tire.Of course he, like Ghim, was also compsensating for Slayn and Etoh's physical weakness, and carrying more than his share of gear, so Etoh supposed he shouldn't be annoyed.

"King Fahn knows what he's doing.A knight should be able to carry out his duties under any circumstances," Parn replied, beginning to walk at a slightly brisker pace.Etoh couldn't see Wood's reaction, but he could practically sense the thief rolling his eyes.

"That's great for you, Parn, but not everyone here wants that particular career.And why is it knightly code to make things hard on yourself for no damn reason?"Wood seemed to love pointing out every downside of being a knight to Parn, maybe because Parn's enthusiasm was so overwhelming in it's strength and, Etoh had to admit, naïve blindness.

"We didn't take horses because we have to move quietly," Slayn said, breathing hard."People are jumpy from the Marmo invasion, and a party on foot doesn't attract nearly as much attention on six people on horses.I would think a thief could appreciate that kind of strategy."

"If you've got strength enough to talk, then you're obviously not carrying enough," added Ghim, in what Slayn once referred to as his "cheerfully vicious" tone."Why don't you take the extra waterskin for awhile."

"Okay, okay, I was just asking.Geez."

Parn was apparently too tired to go into the virtues of knighthood, so the party walked in silence again.Etoh stumbled, caught himself, and wished for calves like granite.He hated feeling so powerless.Slayn at least had a philosophical attitude towards being skinny and bookish, but Etoh planned to travel Lodoss in his work, and for that he would have to build up a little endurance.But even his place in line made him feel like the weak link.Parn and Deedlit tended to take the lead, because Deedlit had a talent for finding the best path in any terrain, and Parn – well, Etoh couldn't imagine Parn walking anywhere but in front.Ghim and Woodchuck usually brought up the rear, since a thief and an experienced dwarf warrior would be more difficult to sneak up on, and that left Slayn and Etoh fenced in the middle.The formation worked – Etoh and Slayn had two fighters on either side of them, and would, if luck held, be protected long enough to prepare spells.Etoh couldn't help thinking, though, of the way that a herd would circle around the young, aged, and infirm when attacked.He figured he fit into the "infirm" category pretty nicely.

"If we don't get to Wort's place soon, all of Lodoss could be in danger."Etoh could hear his own words being repeated in his head, but the voice was not his – just a mocking imitation."So, why don't you pick your pudgy feet and walk, little Etoh?"

Now Etoh was really tempted to swear.He knew he was in trouble if he started hearing Jarden again.The older bully had taken it upon himself to make Etoh's life miserable all through school.Parn had been constantly stepping between the two, but the resulting fights usually just got Parn in trouble.Etoh had thought his troubles were over when he headed to the monastery, but somehow, Jarden's constant derision had stayed with him, mentally.Every time he started to doubt himself, everytime he felt useless, he could hear Jarden's sneering voice.

"Honestly, there is no need to let that man get to you.You haven't even seen him since you went to school," he told himself firmly.The thirty-second prayer to Falis wasn't doing him much good, so he started on the thirty-third.

It was just starting to work, when Parn came to a sudden stop.

"Hey, guys?I'm starting to worry.We should have met up with Deedlit by now, it's been an hour."The elf had walked on ahead during their last break, stating that she wanted to get away from disgusting sweaty men for awhile.On a more practical level, she was going to scout out any obstacles ahead, look for signs of a village, and come back to them with a reccomendation of where and when to camp down for the night. On a personal level, despite her flippant excuse, Etoh suspected that the elf wanted some time alone to enjoy the hills without four miserable (admittedly quite sweaty) humans and one dwarf bogging her down.Her connection to the natural world as an elf let her appreciate it, regardless of uncomfortable weather.

"The elf can take care of herself," said Ghim.

"Look, I know you two don't get along, but-"

"That's not what I meant.She's got elemental magic, better senses than you four, and is a skilled swordswoman.She could probably beat you up, lad."

Etoh quietly suppressed a giggle at the thought.

"Well, even if something has happened, standing here worrying isn't going to do any good," Woodchuck said."She went that way, so I say we keep walking until we see her, or until we come to a town and can ask about her.Or until, you know, we get really tired…"

"Huh.Didn't think I'd ever hear a sensible suggestion out of you, but I agree.Worrying won't do us any good, and neither will rushing down the path," Ghim said, giving Parn a firm glance.

"I…but…no, you're right," said Parn, beginning to walk again."I guess I shouldn't have even brought it up."He seemed sheepish to have been "caught" worrying about the girl who supposedly got on his nerves.

"It's good of you to be concerned, Parn.But I'm sure we'll catch up to her soon, and then there will be no more cause for worry," Slayn soothed.

It was at the next village, over a few more hills, that they found out how wrong they were.The little town reminded Etoh a bit of he and Parn's own village, and he was torn between homesickness and queasiness.

"Hey, little Etoh!That rain barrel looks just like the one I used to dunk you in!"Jarden's voice broke into his thoughts. 

"Shut up!You're not even here!"Etoh shot back quietly.It was not a healthy thing to have a bully running around in one's head, but he just didn't know how to make him leave.

There was one definite difference between Etoh and Parn's home, and that was the people.In that village, despite the goblin scares, strangers usually got a smile and a wave from the locals.As the group arrived in Hamel (marked on a sign outside of town, not on the map), they were greeted with only sullen stares from the few people that were out and about.A woman pointed at the group, and whispered to the man next to her.Etoh caught the word "dwarf", and began to officially worry.Small villages didn't have nearly the tolerance for magic races that larger towns did.

Parn, as usual, took the initiative, and walked over to the couple.

"Good evening to you!We're looking for a friend of ours that might be here, and we were just wondering if you'd seen her.She's an elf, with long blond hair, and a green dress."

Etoh marveled at Parn's description.As if there would be more than one elf in a village like that.But the couple's response was worrying.Despite Parn's unthreatening appearance (the young knight's friendly face completely negated any menace the armor might hold), they flinched away.

"You're with the elf?"The man said, emphasizing the word "elf" the way one might emphasize the word "cannibal".

"Yes!You've seen her?She's not hurt, is she?"Parn was blissfully unaware of the quiet threat.

"She's with Devin," the woman said shortly."We'd better take you to him."

"No need!" a shrill voice called across the square."I'll handle the visitors.I am the town wiseman, after all."There was no mistaking the puffed-up self-importance in the tone, even with Etoh's best attempts to be charitable.

The man in question, apparently Devin, scurried into view.He was short and stout, but not in the compact way that most dwarves were built.Devin was chubby and round, with a reddish face that was currently sweating from the heat, but probably would continue to do so regardless of weather.His hair was brown, tousled, and thinning, and a pair of spectacles was perched on his nose.He came to a halt in front of them, and put his hands on his hips, somehow managing to look down his nose at them.

"What do you mean by wandering in here?We're a peaceful town, and we don't want any trouble."

"And we feel the same way," Slayn said."We're just passing through, on our way to Moss."

"But….you're with the elf."There was that nasty emphasis again.

"Her name is Deedlit!" Parn said, beginning to sound concerned."Where is she?"

"You don't think I'd just let elves run around in a town like this, do you?We're under attack by goblins.They've been raiding us off and on at night for the past three weeks.People are frightened enough without being menaced by other magical creatures."

"Menace?Deed wouldn't 'menace' anyone!What have you done with her?"Parn was getting dangerously tense.

"Nothing permanent.I just put a sleep spell on her, and put her someplace where she couldn't cause any trouble."

"Just because she's an elf?!"Parn was seething.Etoh was, himself, pretty angry at this treatment of a friend.But he'd seen things like that before.Even at the monastery, where morality was supposed to reign, there were those who wanted to believe that humans were the only faithful of Falis, and that all magic creatures were allied with the darkness.

"I think you'd better explain yourself before you do anymore yelling, boy," said Devin coldly."I know Marmo is behind the goblin attacks, and if you've come to work with them, you'll have to get through me."

That didn't look too difficult.But Slayn stepped in again.

"Why don't we talk after you take us to Deedlit.The elf," he added reluctantly."We want to see that she's all right."

"Well, of course she's all right," Devin snorted."We're reasonable people, after all.We're keeping her in front of my house, to be safe."He scampered across the square, and the group fell in behind him.Slayn stepped in close to Etoh as they walked.

"This man is going to be awfully difficult to deal with," he said quietly."I've seen this sort of person before.He's learned a little bit of magic, and suddenly thinks he's got the answers to everything."

"Awfully annoying for someone who's actually learned the magic properly, right?"

"I can't say anything like that…I'd be just as bad as him if I did.But…yes, perhaps a little."The conversation stopped quickly when they reached Devin's house.It was significantly larger than most in the town, but that wasn't the important thing.What was important was object in front of it, and the two large men standing guard over it.

Deedlit lay, unconscious, in what looked like a hastily constructed wooden cage.She seemed to be breathing steadily, and there were no marks on her, but Parn stiffened in fury.

"Deed!How could you put her in something like that!"It took the restraining hands of all four remaining party members to keep the knight from springing at the self-proclaimed wizard.Everyone was talking at once, trying to stop the fight before it started.

"Parn, we have to talk to them first!"

"This isn't the time for violence."

"Keep the sword in it's sheath, boy, we're not going to start a fight until we know the situation."

"For God's sake, how stupid are you?!Look, don't mind him, he's nuts, fell off his horse awhile back…"

As Parn was calmed down, Etoh couldn't help a smile at his friend's reaction.Despite Parn's focus on honor and courage, which tended to get him into trouble more often than not, Etoh felt that what really made his friend shine was his generosity.He would always go the extra mile for a friend, and a friend be just about anyone who crossed his path and didn't wear a Marmo crest.

Of course, his current outrage might have something to do with the fact that it was Deedlit in the cage.In his mind, Etoh could pair them up as a couple easily, but someone would have to give Parn a nudge in the right direction.He had a sudden, horrifying image of himself caught between a haughty elf and a hard-headed knight, trying to play match-maker, and shelved the thought for future nightmares. 

Devin was still glaring over the tops of his spectacles at them, mostly at Parn, but Etoh noticed that he kept taking furtive glances at Ghim.He didn't like the way the man's lip curled.Meanwhile, Parn's outburst had drawn a bit of a crowd.The townspeople beginning to draw around them, looking far too surly for comfort.

"Well, if you're going to react that way, we'll have to assume that you're all Marmo spies, and not just the elf, here," he snapped, motioning at Deedlit.

Oh, great Falis, not this again.

"No one here is a spy, I assure you, " Slayn said, stepping forward."We're just-"

"I hope you're not going to tell me that you're a group of simple travelers.I've heard that line more times than I can count."

Etoh thought that perhaps that was because most people were, in fact, simple travelers.

"But-"

"In fact, I don't want to hear any commonplace excuses," Devin continued."There's no way it would be just chance that a knight, a priest, a mage, an elf, a dwarf, and a…"

"Mercenary," offered Wood helpfully.

" – _thief _would just happen to be traveling together.You've got to be on some mission," Devin finished, giving them a knowing glare.

"How does everyone know?Is it written on my forehead?Is there some kind of thieves' dress code?!"

"Thieves are ragged, dirty; ill-bred ruffians, and you're all of that," Devin said primly."Now, I'd better hear an explanation soon, or I'll just cast sleep on you all, and turn you in."

"No, wait, I'm not…well, no, I am that.But I'm not…no, wait…"While Wood was trying and failing to find an adjective in Devin's list that didn't fit him, Slayn was pulling Etoh and Ghim gently to one side.

"Did you hear the way he said 'elf'?And 'dwarf'?"Ghim murmured."He seems to think that all non-human races are Marmo."

"I think it's just pure xenophobia," Slayn said."He'd use any excuse to hate someone different."

"So…" Etoh let the word hang, hoping that Slayn, ever the planner, would fill in the sentence.

"So, he's not going to let us go on any story or excuse.I think we'd better tell him our real purpose."

"What if he spreads the story around?"Ghim argued."I'm not trusting a man like that with knowledge of our mission."

"If he hates Marmo, he'll be willing to keep a secret of the king of Valis.I don't see any other way of getting out of here without a fight, and that might cost innocent lives."

"Hey, what are you all mumbling over there?" yelled Devin, striding over to them."Trying to get your story straight?Who's in charge, here, anyway?I hope you're not going to say him."Devin jerked a thumb towards Parn, who had not said a word since his earlier outburst.In fact, he'd barely moved.He just stood there, staring at the cage where Deedlit lay.Etoh, now looking at him, was shocked at the worry and sadness on his best friend's face.Maybe it wouldn't take so much of a nudge, after all.And to think he'd once called the elf a nuisance.

"Actually, he is the one leading us.We've been given a mission by the king of Valis," Slayn said.At this, Parn whirled around.

"Slayn!We can't tell them!"

"I don't think we have any other choice, Parn.We can't fight our way out."

"I suppose not, but…"The knight seemed to struggle through a brief inner conflict, then sighed heavily."It's true.You have to promise to keep it a secret, but we're on a mission.We've been sent by King Fahn of Valis to seek the advice of Wort, the great sage in Moss.We're trying to find information about a very powerful person who works with the Marmo.Now, please, get Deedlit out of there and take that spell off of her."

"What, you really expect me to do that, based on your word alone?You have no proof!You're not leaving his village until I see evidence of your words."Devin folded his arms, and the two large "body-gaurds" behind him did the same.

"Okay, that's it.Who the hell do you think you are?"Etoh realized with a start that it was Ghim raising his voice this time.The dwarf's lengthy patience had stretched thin."You've got no right to treat people this way.We're giving you our word that we mean you no harm, and that should be enough.For god's sake, if you're so suspicious, send a group to escort us out of the village and your territory.It shouldn't be so difficult to let us leave in peace."

It was unlikely that Devin even heard Ghim's sensible suggestion.His face had gone redder, and there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

"How dare you speak to me, dwarf!You….you….thing!You're an inferior creature!You're not even a person!"The spittle flew.

"Okay, I've had about enough of you."Ghim unslung his ax.He was either too angry to care about the consequences, or he was figuring that knocking over the leader would frighten away the gathered crowd.Either way, Parn followed suit.

"Don't you speak to my friend that way!I'm not going to let you do this to us!"

"Ghim, Parn, stop!We can't-"Slayn's protest was cut off, as Deb spat out the words of the sleep spell.A glow enveloped the dwarf and the knight, and both toppled to the ground.

"Ghim, Parn!" cried Etoh.He and Slayn rushed to check the two, but they were both, like Deedlit, unharmed and breathing steadily.And, unfortunately, out cold. 

Devin, on the other hand, was in full rage, and glowing with self-righteous triumph at the same time.It wasn't a pretty combination.

"I knew it!I knew you were suspicious!I knew you were Marmo spies!"There were murmurs of agreement from within the crowd, which seemed to have very little experience with independent thought.Few crowds did.Devin turned, and advanced upon the remaining three, his hands still glowing with the spell.His big hulking sidekicks, standing on either side of him like bookends, un-crossed their arms and raised their fists.

"Oh, for God's sake, I can't believe this.Did this group piss off a god, or is my natural misfortune just rubbing off?"Wood backed away from Devin and joined the group, offering what Etoh felt was his usual unhelpful comments.

No, wait, listen!We really are working for the king, you've got to believe us!" cried Slayn desperately.It would have been convenient if they'd been given some sort of royal seal to flash around, but that also might have attracted too much attention.They'd just been running on the "simple group of travelers" story, and letting Parn's armor and Etoh's robes speak for the "goodness" of the group.

"A likely story, Marmo!" Devin snarled."You're probably working with the goblins, you're probably here to see to it that they finish us off!"The angry crowd was beginning to close in.There were way too many to fight, too many to put to sleep with a spell, and running would have meant leaving half the party.

"Okay, okay, you've got us," Wood said, suddenly stepping up to Devin.He held both hands up, palms showing in the universal, "Hey, c'mon, I'm unarmed" gesture."We haven't been entirely honest with you."

"Ah, so you admit-"

"But we're not Marmo."

Etoh had no idea where the thief was going with this, but had a feeling he wouldn't like it.

"Right, you're – what?"

"Oh no, we're demon hunters.Professionals.We do ogres, dragons, chimeras, anything you can name.We heard about your little goblin problem, and were coming to check it out."

At that point, Etoh knew he didn't like where the thief was going with this.Slayn was gawking at Wood, but didn't contradict him.It was that, or let the villagers close the circle in on them.

"Look, we apologize for not stating our purposes right away, but you can understand the need for secrecy.I mean, goblins are usually a little easier to fight when they don't see us coming a mile away."Wood had sidled a little closer to Deb, and was talking quickly.There was a look in his eye that suggested that, if Devin bought this, he had land on Marmo to sell him.And yet, the wizard wannabe seemed intrigued.He held up a restraining hand, and the crowd fell back a few paces.

"If you're here to kill the goblins, why didn't you say so in the first place?"Devin's eyes were running rapidly back and forth across Wood's face, as though he could scan the truth right off it.Etoh took a moment to wish that the thief didn't look quite so seedy.He would have loved to offer some corroboration, but still had no idea what the plan might be.

"Well, we were hoping not to have to explain our real purpose in front of everyone.I mean, anyone could be listening."

"Since when do goblins have spies?"

"Oh, you don't know how clever they really are," Wood exclaimed, actually looking sincere.He slung an arm around Devin as he began to reel off the horrible dangers of goblin invasion.This was a bit difficult given the height difference, but Wood stooped and managed.Devin was listening with rapt attention.Slayn had been right, Etoh realized, he really was a small town rube, and probably knew almost nothing about monsters.

"-and they can hide anywhere – in closets, under the bed, behind chamberpots-"

"Behind chamber-?"

"-and then they'll come slinking out at night, like snakes, and Bam!" Wood hit his fist against his palm."Next thing you know, your throat's been cut, your house is looted, your dog's been raped, and your wife's been eaten."

"Dog…raped?"Devin was beginning to go slightly cross-eyed.

"Okay, reverse the last two.But you get my drift.We hardly wanted to announce our presence in town, and let them all know we were coming.Even an experienced team like this could get eaten alive.We wanted to spread a false story first, then give you the facts in private."

"Um…but…the elf didn't say that…why did she come alone?"

"She was analyzing the situation for us, so that we could be prepared when we got here," Slayn broke in.His facial expression was that long-suffering look Etoh had seen him wear when arguments broke out in the group, sort of like a twenty-four hour sigh.But he seemed to have accepted this option as the best way out of trouble."It would have saved us a lot of time and trouble if you'd let her be."

"But…but…"

"I know we look kind of ragged, but that comes from our line of work," Wood continued, quickly straightening his shirt and breastplate.

"And, it's part of the ruse," Slayn added."If we look like mercenaries from Marmo, we're the last people the monsters would expect to oppose them.And really, you must admit that your village is too far out of the way for Marmo spies to want anything to do with it."

"Well, I…I….er…" Devin suddenly remembered that he was the village sorceror, and rallied himself."No, no, enough!You can't just expect me to believe all that, I'm not some wet-behind-the-ears fool, who-"

"Well, I can't believe you haven't heard of us," said Etoh quietly."I mean, perhaps our disguises have confused you, but our names are well-known in the world of magic.Surely a man of learning such as yourself would know us."

He was surprised at this his own audacity.He was just as brave as anyone else in the party; he could battle a dragon in an underground tunnel, but lying anytime, about anything, sent nervous prickles running up and down his back.But, if he had judged Devin's character correctly, the man would rather accept their story than admit to being ignorant of anything.

"I…er…" Devin trailed off.Etoh could see even more color rising into the man's cheeks.The villagers around them began to shift uncomfortably.

"That is Celstina Wingheart, a specialist in elemental magic, and that's Dom Ironson, one of the strongest dwarf warriors of this century."Etoh motioned to Deedlit and Ghim, trying to look condescending."Don't tell me you haven't heard of them."

"Well…of…of course I have!" Devin stammered."That's right, Dom Ironson.I didn't recognize him without the, er, longer beard, and…um, you know, that hat that he used to wear.But of course I've heard of him!Yes, I don't know how I could have mistaken him in the first place.And…you…um…your disguises are excellent.I really can't tell who you are, but I'm sure I'll know you by name."All the pompous fire had leaked out of the sorcerer, who was now struggling just to keep from losing face.

"I am Gabriel Luc, the Falis priest, and a powerful healer.Our mage here is Tanon the Wise.Parn is really Titus McCleod, and he weilds the Sword of Light, which I'm sure you've recognized,"

"Yes, yes,"Deb's head was bobbing up and down like a bird, he seemed to be trying to affirm Etoh's statements and bow at the same time.

"And that is the famous thief Aloyicious Klempt, reformed of course.You've noticed the spell on his dagger, right?"

"Yes, I have, it-"

"It can cut right to the heart of any monster, like butter," offered Wood, pulling the knife out and flipping it around impressively.He shot Etoh a quick glare that seemed to indicate some dissatisfaction with his chosen name.

"Why, yes, yes, of course.Now I understand!Well, you should have said so in the first place."

"Well, since you've insulted us so, maybe we should just take our people and leave," said 'Aloyicious', attempting to look imperious.

"Oh, no, no, please!You've got to help us, or we'll be at the goblin's mercy."

"Oh…I suppose that's true…"Wood looked like he was starting to regret his story, now that Devin was being so cooperative.

"And besides, the sleep spell won't wear off for at least a day.Maybe more.I wasn't sure when I cast it."Etoh could see Slayn tense slightly, a rare show of anger from the quiet mage, at such a careless use of magic.

"Well, we can't be expected to go out and end all your problems with half of our people down."

"Oh, really?"Devin seemed to have gotten his footing back, and was sidling onto higher ground."But you're such well-known heroes.You would think that any one of you could take out a band of goblins.Surely the three of you would suffice for the job, and when you get back, your friends will be well taken care of.Of course, you will be reimbursed for your trouble as well."

The three looked at each other, at the short wizard, and at the crowd, which still seemed perfectly willing to tear them to pieces if Devin gave the order.There didn't seem to be much left to do, but agree.Slayn did insist that Deedlit be removed from the cage, and that she, Parn, and Ghim be given a comfortable place to sleep until the spell wore off.With that done, they found themselves being ushered out of town, Devin claiming that surely "great heroes" such as themselves wouldn't need to wait before tackling the goblins.One look at the crowd convinced them that, no, they didn't really need to wait.They were pointed towards a couple of particularly high hills, on which the goblins tended to camp out.

And that was how, as the sun was setting, a mage, a thief, and a priest made their way glumly towards a known goblin camp.

"Was it really safe to leave the others with someone like that?" Etoh wondered aloud."How do we know he won't hurt him while we're gone?"

"I gave him a few choice words about long-distance monitering spells," said Slayn, wearing a grim smile that seemed wrong on his usually gentle face."I told him that if any of our companions came to harm, the repercussions would be rather grave, and that if such harm did occur, I would know immediately."

"Will you?"

"No.I'm not yet capable of casting something that advanced.But he thinks I can, and that should keep the others safe.Now, as far as I can tell, we have no choice but to do as he asks."

"I suppose," Wood sighed."I mean, I was thinking maybe we could come back and lie, but a guy like that would want proof, wouldn't he?"

"Yes, he would."

"Oh well."There were a few mintues of silence, then Woodchuck spoke again.

"You know, that could have gone better, but I've got to say – you two were great for law-abiding citizens.I never thought you could lie like that, Etoh.I've only got one complaint for you: Aloyicious Klempt?Aloyicious Klempt, Etoh?My first chance to have a name that's better than what I've got now, and you decide to call me Aloyicious?"

"It's still a step up from Woodchuck, I'd say," Slayn observed."Whatever possessed your parents?"

"Hey, lay off my parents," Wood said, actually going slightly red.Etoh hadn't seen him come close to blushing once, even after screwing up royally in the elven forest, even when explaining how he'd wound up beaten and bruised at the palace ball."My mother saw it written in a book somewhere and thought it sounded neat.Wasn't her fault."

Slayn cocked an eyebrow at the man's reaction, and wisely "laid off".Instead, he went on to a more pressing problem.

"Do we have a plan?"

"Plan?What, do I have to do everything?I got no idea what to do next, besides the long-term plan of 'kill the goblins'."Etoh hadn't wanted to hear that.He had sincerely hoped that the thief had been thinking a little bit beyond the present situation when he'd started his demon hunter talk.Apparently not.

"So, you just jumped right in and made up a story, with no idea what we were going to do next?"

"Hey, c'mon, you both helped.Besides, I wasn't lying about everything.This knife really can cut to the heart of any goblin."

"Its enchanted?"

"Its sharp."

Etoh gritted his teeth, and called up the thirty-fourth prayer to Falis.It was likely to be an interesting little ride ahead, and that meant "interesting" as in "heart-stopping terror and extreme discomfort", not "interesting" as in "an evening of contemplation and study".Then again, maybe one small adventure without his protective best friend could silence the sneering voice in his head that assured him, even right then, that he was useless baggage.

Or, maybe they'd be killed and eaten.One of the two.


	2. 

Disclaimers, author's notes, etc: Well, I've finally gotten up another chapter to this thing, and I can only pray that it hasn't gotten lame. No, I haven't been waiting for a set number of reviews, I'm just a busy person and a lazy, easily distracted writer. Many, many thanks to you all for the feed-back, I really appreciate it. A few people thought I was making Etoh too negative, which I'd probably agree with. On one hand, I wanted to flesh his character out a little beyond the constant niceness that we see in the OAV. On the other hand, I probably did too much speaking through him, so I'll try to make him a little…well..cuter. Of course, now I'm probably making him too incompetent, but hell…I'll do my best. Also, I know late-night conversations are a cheap plot-trick for character development, but I like stuff like that. And I promise Slayn will have more lines next time. Oh yeah, I don't own any of the characters, except a few, and they're not important. Mighty creators, please don't sue. 

Within an hour of leaving the little town of Hamel, the priest, sorcerer, and thief were bound, gagged, and looked to be in significant danger of being killed and eaten. They argued about it for weeks afterward, out of earshot of their companions, but were never able to determine exactly whose fault it was. 

It wasn't until the shadows were lengthening across the hills that they began to talk about a plan. They'd walked relative quiet for about twenty minutes. It wasn't just a lack of good ideas, although that was definitely part of the situation, but that they had no idea where the goblins in question might be hiding. The best information that the townspeople had been able to offer was that there was a band of about thirty, and that they usually attacked from "that way," meaning the road that led out of town to the west. 

That had been the direction that they were taking towards Wort, so Etoh speculated that they probably would have run into the goblins anyway. In fact, he thought, brightening, it was perhaps for the best that they had run into trouble in the village, otherwise they would have been ambushed on the road. So, Falis really was looking out for them. He moved on, lost in his own comforting thoughts, while the silence stretched out and began approaching uncomfortable. 

Parn was usually the one who started conversations. Parn was the catalyst for group relations, and really the only reason that the strange mix of a party had anything to do with each other. Without Parn there, Etoh felt shy and awkward, even though the mage was friendly, and the thief had proven himself to be basically good at heart. He thought that Slayn was feeling the same way without Ghim there. They were really the same, Slayn and he - both introverted, bookish, preferring to be alone with their own thoughts. Woodchuck was not bound by any of these personality characteristics, and seemed to care so little about what the party thought that Etoh suspected he was sometimes over-obnoxious, just to test reactions. So of course it was he that started the conversation again.

"We can't go on like this. This is just dumb," he declared, stopping suddenly and turning to face the other two. It wasn't the caustic sarcasm that he was capable of, but softer, cautious tones. He was worried, Etoh saw, and therefore all business.

"I do agree," Slayn said, so naturally soft-spoken that he didn't need to lower his voice at all. "I've been trying to think of the best way to go about this."

"Whatever we do, we need to get off the road. They could be anywhere," Wood gestured at the hills around them, ominous in the fading light, "and we're right out in the open."

"Yes, I've been thinking about that," Slayn mused. "I think I've got a few spells that could make things easier."

"Well, whip 'em out, by all means. Let's just talk about plans someplace less conspicuous." 

Etoh let himself be led, cautiously, off the road without agreeing or disagreeing with his companions. They seemed to have forgotten he was there. 

"Well, it's not like you'll be much good right now," Jarden began coyly. "Or ever," he added. "They'll only be calling on you if they need healing or a worship service." Etoh didn't even bother to respond to the voice. Sometimes, even a live-in bully (who was, after all, really controlled by his own doubts and fears about his competence) was best handled by the silent treatment.

He simply followed Slayn and Wood in a meandering path around the hills, which Wood insisted was necessary and practical if something had seen them leave the road (and Slayn insisted was pure paranoia). The hills were getting steeper beyond the village, becoming the foothills of yet another range of mountains that the adventurers would have to cross. That meant another week or so of aching feet, but at least they'd be out of the heat, which still hung like a stifling blanket over the landscape.

The group finally settled into the tall grass at the base of one of the hills, after Wood had done a quick, careful scout to all sides.

"So," the thief said, settling down and looking to Slayn, "Plan?"

"I don't really know how we'd go about attacking them, yet…Maybe a sleep spell done from a distance would be the best bet…"

"That'd save some time and effort…and bruises, probably. But that's assuming that they're all together in a group, and not scattered around….right?"

"Mmm…yes. But that's what I've been thinking about. I've got a spell that could help us locate the goblins, or at least let us understand where they are."

"That'd be wonderful, Slayn. How does it work?" Etoh offered. If he couldn't help immediately, at least he could be good-natured and polite. He tried hard not to lose it, even when he felt otherwise on the inside, partly because people like Jardin often commented that these characteristics were all a Falis priest was good for. Besides, Slayn wanted to teach, and he loved explaining, enough that the magic-challenged Ghim began to complain about being a perpetual test audience.

"It's really nothing complicated," Slayn said, too humble to brag even if it had been a three day, multi-level spell. "Just a search and find…I send out the magic, and it leads me to a target…by sense, you understand, Etoh." 

He did. There was a certain feel to magic, whether it came from a god or the earth - not quite heat, not quite electricity, most definitely power. Anyone with some spiritual sensitivity could sense magic well enough to follow it. 

"Well, hell, don't explain it, just do it," said Woodchuck, who almost definitely didn't understand, and didn't want to. 

"Then what?" Slayn asked, already gripping the staff and closing his eyes.

"Then we'll figure something out, I'm sure." 

There were a few mumbled word, and the staff flared up, lighting the sorcerer with a soft glow and sending shadows into the hollows of his thin face. Wood started, and looked around nervously, as though the light had drawn unseen armies around them.

"Does he have to shine like that?" he asked Etoh in a hoarse whisper.

"Probably," said Etoh glibly. Somehow, seeing the ever-dependable Slayn at work made him feel as though their problems were solved already. Slayn had been a quiet fixture at the back of his village for about five years, four of which he had spent in training, so neither he nor Parn had known much about him before the adventure. He had figured out, though, in Slayn's first year there, that most problems, from drought to ogre attack to a sick cow, could be solved by consulting the mage. And he called himself a novice.

After a good ten minutes of Slayn glowing and mumbling, while Woodchuck looked around worriedly every few seconds, the light winked out and the mage slumped against his staff.

"Are you all right?" Etoh started forward, although there wasn't much a priest could do to renew a drained sorcerer. Healing injuries was one thing, replacing energy was another thing entirely. 

"Yes…It just took a bit longer than I thought," Slayn said, looking drawn and pale. "I'm getting some odd results. I think it might be interference from the village." He obviously thought that the sentence was self-explanatory, but seeing blank looks from both of them, continued. "The way Devin uses magic is sloppy, and leads to a lot of extra energy in the air. It should be…mostly harmless, because it'll just diffuse over the area. But it'll mess up any sensing spells that I try to cast."

"Did you get anything we could go on?" Etoh asked. 

"Yes, I believe so…most of the readings come from that direction," Slayn pointed north. "I think they're clustered in a group. If we slip up on them, I could cast sleep, and that might solve our problems."

"Then what?" Wood asked.

"Then," Slayn continued, looking a little annoyed at having the burden of the plan thrust on him, "I try to recast a spell I used at Parn's village. I'm assuming that some evil influence has fallen over their minds to make them act this way."

"How do you know that? What if they're just jerks?" Wood pressed.

"Goblins do _not_ raid villages at random, and they almost never attack in large bands like this, " Slayn sighed, now going into full school-teacher mode. "They usually attack travelers in small groups or pairs. Something must have happened to stir them up. Anyway, if I can't cast sleep in time, you and Etoh can keep them away from me long enough to cast this spell. If you happen to see a goblin that's larger or better dressed than the others, try to target it. It'll probably be the leader, and taking it out may scatter them."

"All right then," Wood said, now looking a little more certain. "Consider it done."

"Great plan, Slayn," Etoh beamed, feeling relieved. Being away from Parn, his constant protector since childhood, made the whole operation uneasy and uncertain. But having Slayn there was like a giant safety net. "I don't see what could go wrong!" he continued happily.

"Oh, Etoh…don't ever say that," Wood groaned.

They followed Slayn through the winding valleys, the mage shuffling slowly with eyes closed and one hand groping at the air. Etoh held onto his arm to keep him from stumbling, and Wood wandered between guarding them to the front and protecting their rear, one hand resting on the handle of his largest dagger.

"Don't be so nervous," Etoh said, feeling better and better about the operation as time passed. "Slayn knows where they are." 

"Slayn said he couldn't quite tell, and we're still out-numbered, no matter what happens," Wood responded, still scanning the hills around them.

"It'll be fine," Etoh assured. He would have considered it his job to say things like that even if he hadn't felt it, and things were definitely looking up.

They walked for another twenty minutes, occasionally stopping and doubling back as Slayn lost and regained the signal. Finally, he stopped at a narrow gap between two particularly tall hills, and pointed at the small valley within. The grass had been cropped much shorter than what was on the surrounding hills, and the remains of a small campfire could be seen in the middle.

"There's a strong signal coming from in there," the mage whispered.

"Riiiiiight….so where are they?" 

Slayn considered this, looking around the small area.

"Like I said, it's a confusing spell - they might be over the next hill, or they may have buried some of their dead here. They might be sleeping at the far end, and we just can't see them."

"Or, they could be hiding at the top of these hills, waiting for us to wander out there so they can jump us," Wood protested.

"There's nothing on the hill-tops around this valley," Etoh argued. The moon was bright, and although the valley was shrouded in shadow, anything on the hills would have made a visible silhouette.

"They could be hiding in the tall grass. They could be anywhere!"

"Yes," Slayn agreed. "They could. But I can't get any more specific with this spell - there's too much strange magic in the air from that village. We can't stand here forever. I think we should venture in an investigate."

"I think that's a really bad idea," Wood hissed.

"You think everything is a bad idea," Etoh replied, slipping past him into the valley. "We have to do this one way or the other." Maybe, he was beginning to think, he could actually do something without Parn there to forever watch his back. Sure he was a home-bound little priest who had been, in his childhood, very easily beaten up, but that didn't make him helpless. He gripped his priest's scepter tightly, something Jarden had once cruelly called the "Phallus of Falis". They would find the goblins, work quickly, and then go back and rescue their friends. And everything would be fine.

And that was his first big mistake.

They were getting near the burned-out campsite when there was a faint rustling in the grass, and a goblin popped into sight. It didn't emerge out of the grass, or leap out of the shadows, but simply appeared out of thin air, crouched and motionless. For a moment, it stared at them, not looking particularly frightened, as though it didn't expect to be seen. Then, Wood slipped protectively in front of Slayn and Etoh, pulling out his dagger and raising it to throw.

The creature gave a startled yelp. It looked at them, looked down at it's own, now visible self, glanced back up at them. It grunted something in it's own language, a coarse, unintelligible growl with a strange tone of uncertainty to it. Although it sounded like a rabid dog, the rabbit-in-torchlight expression it wore made Etoh think that the word might translate easily into English: "Oops." Then it winked out again.

At that point, a lot of things happened at once. Woodchuck dove forward, grabbed the air around what was presumably the neck, and stabbed at it. A strangled squeal that rose up and died away suggested he had been successful, but the body did not conveniently become visible, except as a slight depression in the grass. There wasn't much time to dwell on this, though, as shapes were rustling through the tall grass, down the hill and towards the party.

"Run!" Woodchuck ordered, suddenly having no qualms about being the one in charge of "the plan". He darted back to Etoh and grabbed him unceremoniously by the front of his robes in order to drag him forward. Etoh began a few halting steps, but between worried glances back at Slayn and stepping on his long robes, he stumbled and fell to the ground. Behind them, Slayn shouted a single word, and the little valley was flooded with light. This made the movement in the grass easier to see, but when the rustling reached the valley, it burst out onto the short scrub, and became nothing at all.

No, that wasn't quite right. As Etoh climbed back onto his feet, aided by Wood yanking up on one arm, he saw that the footsteps thudding towards him on the shorter grass had a shimmering form above them. It flickered as it moved, and pieces of goblin anatomy winked in and out of sight. A sinewy bicep here, a tip of an ear there, a sudden shadow that should not have been there spreading out behind it. He could still see the hill-top and night sky through the space above the foot-prints (which were pounding down faster and making him think that perhaps he should do something). It was like a little piece of reality had been draped with a silvery gauze, about the size and shape of an average full-grown goblin. It was like someone was badly botching an invisibility spell.

The caster was no where to be found, but Etoh had a sinking feeling that the odds had suddenly doubled against them. Devin hadn't mentioned a mage on their side. And a mage there must be, because goblins using magic was about as likely as ogres singing and dancing. It must have been the invisibility spells that put so many interfering signals in the air, not just magic from the village. 

All this observation took place in a matter of seconds. As the flickering figure reached them, Woodchuck shoved Etoh back onto the ground and whipped his dagger hand around.

"Oh, for God's _sake_," the thief snarled, grappling with the hazy figure. He didn't specify which god, exactly, but was speaking more from depths of frustration and fear then faith. Even in those confused moments, as Wood finished the job and tossed another mostly invisible, completely dead goblin onto the ground, Etoh had a second to feel shame prick him. It seemed obvious that the thief's frustration wasn't directed at the sudden attack, but at him, the clumsy, soft-skinned priest who couldn't even run away to literally save his life.

"We still……need….to run…." Wood gasped, his sentence extended by the two mostly invisible goblins he was now sparing with. Etoh bashed one of them with his priest's scepter, the way he had when he had raided the cave with Parn, and felt vindicated to see it go down. Or see the depression in the grass, anyway.

"There, see? I can fight!" he thought.

Wood barely seemed to notice, and instead shoved him at Slayn, who was standing rather bravely with both eyes closed, murmuring magic words. A small whirlwind of energy surrounded the mage, and was impressive enough that no goblin was approaching him.

"Go help Slayn cast whatever. I'll cover you both," Wood said, eyes darting between the indistinct figures, waiting for targets to come in range.

Etoh stumbled back, and took a swing at another shimmering figure, burning with frustration. It was a common layman's mistake, but priest's spells and mage's spells were two entirely different brands of magic. One drew energy from the world around them, and the mage's own strength, and molded them through force of will. Etoh's "magic" drew power from the gods above, and wasn't controlled by individual will, but that of the god. When it came right down to it, priests really had a greater power at their disposal, serving ultimately as a conduit for the power of a god to flow through. But their options were limited to what a god was willing to allow. Sorcerers, having to pull energy from the elements by the force of their own will, had much less power, but could do as they pleased. That was why priests usually gently referred to sorcerers as, "Like us, but arrogant." Unbeknownst to Etoh, mages often referred to priests, in turn, as "Like us, but wimpy." So the quiet little rivalry, which only the most zealous on either side usually acknowledged, pretty much balanced out.

What all of that meant was that, although they used similar techniques, Etoh would have little chance of knowing what spell Slayn was casting, and no way of helping him. 

There was little holy magic that he would have time to offer, though, and they probably could only afford to have one party member lost in the private little world of spell-casting. So Etoh contented himself with backing himself up to the rim of the little whirlwind that had surrounded Slayn, and bashing at any goblins that dared to come near. He didn't particularly like using the scepter for violence, although that was one of it's official uses - "For defensive purposes, if a priest has not the time for holy magic." Defensive purposes was a nice way of saying bashing someone's brains out, and it was harder than it sounded. Every now and then, he got in a good hit, but more often, he lashed clumsily and nearly knocked himself over with the momentum of the swing. Physical activity had never been, and never would be, he now suspected, his forte. 

Under the sound of the whirling energy, Etoh could hear the soft chanting.

"Those whose minds have been clouded by evil…let your hearts be set free…"

It was the same spell that Slayn had cast in the village. He was, Etoh realized, casting two spells at once, maintaining a shield in his mind while chanting the second, which would lift whatever evil magic was making the goblins behave strangely. Between swatting at goblins, which was quickly seeming unnecessary with the whirling energy barrier that Slayn was maintaining, Etoh had a moment to marvel. Slayn was thin, and frail-looking, and was forever insisting that he had a lot to learn - but what he could do with his own quiet strength and determined concentration was amazing.

It began to work, as the goblin nearest Etoh swayed, the red of it's eyes rolling up into a blank white. It had faded into almost complete visibility, and the few nearest him were doing the same. Around him he could hear the sound of weapons slipping out of limp hands and thudding on the ground. This was good, because his scepter had slid out of his nervous, sweat-soaked hands on the last swing, and buried itself in the ground. He took this moment to retrieve it. 

Suddenly, a bright light flashed from some distance away in the crowd. It was a bolt of something that was not quite fire, and not quite electricity, but most definitely power. Etoh threw himself on the ground, and felt the tips of his hair singe as it passed by over-head. It slammed into the sorcerer's shield with a sharp burning sound - not quite like lightening striking the ground, more like lightening striking other lightening. Slayn sagged in the middle of it, unburned, thankfully, but with pain and panic etched into his sharp face. He had been casting two difficult spells when the other one hit, and his hold over both had been broken. But magic didn't just cut itself off, not when it was summoned and working. Magic had to be actively shut down, or else, with no guiding hand, it would run wild.

The shield became a scorching wind that blew out in all directions, knocking people off their feet (or, more likely, knocking goblins off their feet - Etoh and Wood had wisely hugged the ground by this time) and flattening the grass. But the second spell that Slayn had been working on, that one was harder than it seemed. Going into a mind, even the simpler, more single-purposed kind possessed by the goblins, was a difficult and delicate task. The brain was like a complicated little glass ornament; the slightest bump the wrong way could smash something beyond repair; and it crackled with a strange energy all it's own. The spell that Slayn had been attempting was now swirling around in the minds of three unfortunate goblins. There were shrieks, and a nasty bubbling sound.

There was a reason that Slayn had found Devin's clumsy use of magic so offensive. It was easy, horribly easy for it to slip away from the hands of the user, and often the results were harmless or even humorous (Slayn told and retold the story of a fellow student who had attempted a transformation into a crow, and wound up with feathers sprouting continuously from both ears). When a great deal of energy was built up, however…

Three goblins standing over Etoh stiffened in surprise as their heads exploded off their shoulders. Wet, sticky nastiness that Etoh didn't want to begin identifying splattered across his back, as he clasped his hands protectively over his head. The three bodies fell twitching to the grass, while Etoh watched in horror. He'd gone out prepared to kill them, but this was gruesome.

"But it was also quick," offered a more practical part of his brain. "They'd wind up dead either way, and they probably even felt this."

"They felt it," Etoh answered weakly. "They were screaming." It was a good point, though. There was no point in getting upset over what had been an accident, and probably had killed the creatures (evil creatures, Etoh reminded himself, who had been out to kill him) almost instantly. So no need to over-react.

He started to stand, lurched with sudden nausea, and threw up on the grass.

"Wuss," Jardin chuckled. "I don't even need to say much here, do I?"

That was enough to pull Etoh to his feet again, spitting the bitter taste out of his mouth. Time to re-assess the situation (and wish, for the fourth time at least, that Parn was there). Slayn was on his knees, sweat standing out on his face, arms wrapped around the staff, which was probably the only thing still holding him up. Around him, stunned goblins were climbing to their feet. Several feet away, Woodchuck was taking the opportunity to leap on a dazed opponent, giving Slayn and Etoh only a brief, curious glance over his shoulder.

Etoh stared hard in the direction that the magic had come from, but the source wasn't difficult to see. Towering above the other goblins, who were still picking themselves off the ground, was one that was significantly larger, sterner, and more capable of bipedal movement. But it was most definitely a goblin, which confused the situation even more. Goblins were wild, vicious creatures, barely capable of a primitive society. Magic was right out. And to give the situation that extra touch of the ludicrous (which was quickly becoming normal on this particular mission), the creature clutched a staff, and wore a long, garish red cape over the black tunic and armor that most goblins wore. This was definitely the leader.

And, judging by the number of goblins still alive and well, the situation had not particularly improved.

Woodchuck, tossing down yet another dead goblin, looked up and seemed to come to the same conclusion. He drew back an arm and sent three short knives flying at the creature. It raised an arm, as if to bat them away, but sent a sparkling burst of light through the air as it swung. The knives were not deflected so much as vaporized. Wood, probably regretting drawing attention to himself, took a cautious step back. He was tense and poised on his toes, and, given another second, probably would have fled with or without his companions. Before he had a chance, the leader, either not wanting to waste magic, or flexing it's authoritative muscles, pointed at him and grunted, and several of the survivors jumped at him.

Etoh risked at quick glance at Slayn, whose drawn, pale face swept away any hope that he could cast the spell again. But fortunately, the surrounding goblins seemed too frightened to touch him after that little head exploding incident. Unfortunately, most of them were now directing their attentions at him. Suspecting that flailing at them clumsily wouldn't do much good, Etoh simply ran. It wasn't, he thought, as if he was abandoning them. If he could slip up the hill and hide in the tall grass, he might be able to cast the holy equivalent of what Slayn had attempted. He wouldn't have a chance out in the open, though.

Two dark shapes darted past him, and blocked his path to the front. Etoh tried to dodged around, but a clawed hand clamped down on his arm and tossed him back. He ripped away and ran in the other direction, realizing belatedly that he was being herded. He tried to break away to one side again, but the menacing outlines were there again, leaving him with no place to run but back towards the main group, and the leader. Woodchuck was not down yet - having run out of knives, he was falling back on the ancient bar-fighting technique of an elbow to the throat. But he was far out-numbered, and the leader was strolling up behind him with murder in it's eyes. In an ordinary situation, the man would have most likely noticed - heard, or felt with some kind of mysterious thief's sixth sense (which he once admitted was nothing more than good ears and paranoia) - but he was highly distracted. 

"So, yell at him, idiot. It's not like you've accomplished anything else, here," Jardin snapped, and for once his criticism seemed like good advice. 

In stories and ballads, battle dialogue had a certain eloquence. Even the roughest mercenary, when a few decades dead (or simply out of public eye) found himself speaking in cursive when his exploits were retold. So, Etoh would consider later, he couldn't really blame himself for thinking that a shouted warning could be an entire sentence. In the stories, evil-doers just sort of froze while last words, declarations of love, and explanations of philosophy were being delivered mid-parry. As it was in the real world, though, what was intended to be, "Hey, Wood, look out behind you!" was cut off at "Hey, Wo-" as the leader slammed it's staff against the man's head. 

"Oh, well. Never mind, then," sighed Jarden in mock sympathy.

Guilt and panic poured into him. Logically, he knew that it wasn't his fault, but emotions pulled taut by stress were now snapping. Never mind that he'd helped Parn back at the village, Great Falis, he really was useless in battle, wasn't he? Yet some sort of instinct kicked it. Right as he managed a coherent thought, that being that he should go defend his fallen comrade, he realized he had already rushed forward, and was now practically face to face with the leader. Coherent thought fled again. One sweaty hand trembled around the scepter, he started to raise his arm, thinking vaguely that he ought to do _something_. His arm felt like lead, though, and his mind was lurching along like a cart through mud. Where, Etoh had time to wonder desperately, was the productive panic, the kind that seized a warrior and let him bash his way though hordes of Kobolds. If Falis hadn't seen fit to give him a strong fighter's body, he could at least give him the convenient kind of hysteria.

The leader grinned, and Etoh was close enough to see gruesome red strings of…something…caught between its long and pointed teeth. He could see the pock-marks on its leathery skin, the coarse tufts of hair poking out from its nose and ears. Never mind about what he could smell. It grinned at Etoh, spearing him through with its wild yellow eyes. There was intelligence and cunning to be read there, as well as a certain arrogance. As far as it was concerned, Etoh was caught and disemboweled as they stood there. 

Then it reached out, and flicked him in the nose.

Etoh swung the scepter up in the clumsy arch, and bashed the creature in the forehead. It squealed and staggered, but at the same time, wrapped a hand around Etoh's neck, and shook him like a rag doll. Etoh pulled at the hand, and swung blindly with the scepter, but his vision was bouncing back and forth, and he was seeing three of the ugly face in front of him. Little black dots danced and spun in front of his eyes.

Suddenly, the arm tossed him back onto the ground. He could only lie, shaken and dizzy, and watch the stars wink in and out above him. Then, the leader's face filled his vision. Blood was trickling between the fingers it had cupped over the wound.

"You, little human, are going to die for that."

Etoh blinked. The creature was speaking in plain, common English, nothing like the snarls and squeals that usually made up the goblin "language". This was just as bad as magic.

"But not just yet," the goblin added, standing up and staring down at him. Clawed hands grabbed his arms on either side, and hauled him to his feet. His arms were forcibly crossed behind his back, tight enough to be painful. Hands were roughly patthing him down for weapons, while another goblin was brining rope over. Turning his head around, he could see that Slayn, whom the goblins had finally plucked up enough courage to approach, and Wood were being similarly subdued. Slayn was too exhausted to fight, and Wood, although not unconscious, was looking around dully, and not struggling. 

As his hands were fitted into loops, and rope wound around his chest, Etoh took a deep breath. He'd read once in a story about how a hero had, by filling his lungs with air, expanded his body just a little, so that upon exhaling the ropes had been just a little loose. Of course, that character had had a mystical prophecy working in his favor, as well, and there didn't seem to be any that covered mild-mannered priests. Etoh was dragged to where his companions had been piled, and tossed unceremoniously against them, so that one was leaning against either side of his back. 

Slayn's hands had been had been bound tightly together, so that any of the gestures that accompanied spells would be virtually impossible, and a cloth gag was stuffed in his mouth. Wood was tied only at the wrists and ankles, but with a complicated mass of knots that would likely take hours to undo. The dazed, unfocused look in his eyes suggested that he'd have trouble running away, even if not bound. His head hung limply against his chest. 

"We," he said slowly, as though assembling the sentence was a delicate and careful process, "need to work on our coord'nation."

The leader was now some distance away, pulling up wounded and checking the dead. Out of hearing range. There were two goblins standing on either side of them, but they were watching the leader, not their prisoners. If there was some escape attempt to be made, now would be the time. The wind had been knocked out of him as he landed, and he found that the ropes were, perhaps, just a little bit looser. Not enough to really move, unlike in the story, but it was a vague step in the right direction.

"Wood, we have to do something right now. Did they miss anything while they checked you?" Etoh whispered.

There was a long pause from Etoh's left side, where the thief was leaning.

"Wood!"

"…..What? Etoh, I can't……focus real well right now…" Again, it sounded like he was hauling each word into the proper place, slowly and with great effort. 

"Did they miss any weapons when they checked you?" Etoh hissed. There wasn't much time. "C'mon, you're a thief, you must have knives hidden all over you. If I can reach one, I can maybe cut us loose."

"What happened? Things keep winking in and out."

"Wegotcapturedbythegoblinsandyougothitonthehead!" Etoh blurted out frantically. The two guards glanced down at him, and he froze, but they looked back towards the leader again. "Now please, if you've got anything left with a sharp edge, give it to me now."

Silence from Etoh's left side.

"Wood!" Etoh leaned back sharply and jostled the thief, whose head snapped up suddenly.

"What? What do you want, Etoh?!"

"A knife!"

"Why?"

"Because we got captured and we're tied up!"

"By who?"

"What?"

"Who captured us?"

"What does it matt-goblins! We got captured by the goblins, and they're going to kill and eat us unless you can snap out of it."

"Oh."

There was another, horrible pause. Etoh could feel a trickle of sweat glide down the center of his forehead and drop off the end of his nose.

"Now, what did you want, again?"

"A knife!"

"…..Why?"

Before the conversation could circle around again, (because it's safe to say that it wasn't exactly progressing) the leader strode back towards them. A few of the goblins trailed along behind him, the others scattered. It grunted at the two guards, who stepped back obligingly, and smirked down at the captives, hands on hips. Maybe it was the obviously smug expression, but Etoh marveled that it looked surprisingly human.

"Well, this is an interesting little situation, isn't it? The only question is, do we eat you now, or eat you later?"

Slayn hadn't heard the leader's earlier comments, and now stared up at the goblin thoughtfully. Wood seemed to notice and come awake a little, sitting up straighter against Etoh. Etoh, meanwhile, found himself in the uncomfortable position of group spokesperson. 

"What do you have to say for yourselves?" The creature smirked down at Etoh, suggesting that anything they had to say wouldn't make much difference. 

"We're just a group of simple travelers-" Etoh began.

"Oh, really? Because, the way you talked when you left town, it seemed like you were on your way out to look for us."

"Um…we were kidding about that," Etoh tried, wondering how long they'd been watched, and why the hell they hadn't thought about it sooner. He really would have liked to ask the creature how it had learned to speak English, or cast spells, but he wasn't exactly sure how to bring the subject up, and didn't expect an honest response. 

"Oh, really," said the leader, cocking an eyebrow. "Were you kidding when your little party killed twelve of my people?"

Etoh made some quick mental calculations. He'd taken down a few, Slayn had mistakenly exploded three, and Wood must have been awfully busy. To wipe out the band, all they'd need to do was repeat those actions….twice….while wounded and tired, never mind bound and gagged. 

"Maybe if you pray hard enough, Falis will come down in a burning pillar and vanquish all your enemies," Jarden sniggered. "It'd be about time, because he certainly never saved you from me." Etoh didn't waste time trying to silence him. He always showed up when things got tough (like during seminary exams), and Etoh had more important things to think about. Such as how, if possible, he could talk their way out of this.

"Now, wait a minute. You're the ones who attacked us," he protested. "We were defending ourselves. You're the one who's responsible for the deaths of at least three of them, when you disrupted my friend's spell."

"You were on your way to attack us. I believe we were the ones on the defense."

"Why have you been raiding that village?" 

"Why is that business of yours?" the leader countered. "Maybe we have a legitimate grievance against that community. And of course, you didn't even try to hear our side of the story, did you, little human man?" The leader continued. Etoh felt like he was being hustled by a smooth merchant. He could argue theology with the best of them, but people in the marketplace had an aggressive way of using words as nets, and such confrontations usually ended with Etoh buying something just to make the seller go away. And the two older, wiser men were currently incapacitated.

"Look, you're the one's talking about killing and eating us," he tried. 

"Cultural observance," said the leader, flippantly. He seemed to have lost a great deal of his bite now that the group was restrained. Rather than murderous, he had simmered down to cruelly sarcastic.

"What are you talking about?" It was like being told that dragons burning villages was a way of artistic expression.

"Humans and goblins - two different species. Just like…say, humans and deer, right? You eat them, and we eat you. Simple."

That was putting an odd spin on things. Etoh wondered briefly what he would say if he encountered a talking deer with a similar list of grievances. "Well, I'm sure I haven't eaten any of _your_ relatives, so…"

"It's not the same thing…and even if it was, I don't know what your point is," he protested. 

"My point is that you came out here looking to attack us, and interfering in a matter that was none of your business. When we reacted, looking only to defend ourselves, you slew 12 of my men. You're probably going to be skinned alive for it, but I was just wondering if you had anything to say for yourself." The leader leaned in close, glaring down it's bulbous nose at Etoh.

It was bad enough that the goblin spoke, and that it talked about things like cultural observances, but what made things even stranger was that the leader seemed to be genuinely interested in the debate. It wasn't pumping them for information, as they likely would have done to it if the situations where reversed. It was gloating over them, certainly, but it hadn't made good on any of the threats. He'd never fought bad guys (and he was assuming that he could certainly call vicious creatures that ate people "bad guys") that were so concerned with establishing themselves to be in the right. But then, it seemed to just be the leader. None of the other goblins had joined in the debate, or even spoken, although a few still hung around behind the leader, watching carefully.

Etoh weighed his options. Slayn probably would have had a logical argument prepared, and Woodchuck, judging by how he'd handled the situation in town, would have come up with a very glib lie. But Etoh was suddenly the one in charge, and he was a priest. And priests told the truth and hoped for the best.

"And they wind up skinned and roasting over a spit," Jarden sneered.

"The local sorcerer has captured our friends, and forced us into this. He won't release them until we stop your attacks on the town," Etoh explained calmly. The words had a definite affect on the leader, whose grimace made an ugly face even uglier. Etoh hadn't thought it was possible.

"Devin?!" it spat. "That little bastard sent you all out against us? "

"You, uh…know him?" Well, of course it knew him, it would have undoubtedly seen the puffy little faux-mage if it had been raiding the village. But this smacked of a personal insult. 

"I know him, all right," the goblin growled. "It's because of him that we've been stuck here for so long. We'd have been on our way long ago if not for him, you know. God, he's got such an ugly little mind."

"What do you mean?" The leader fixed him with a hard, suspicious glare, the kind that the Allanian soldiers had worn when they dragged the party to Fortress Myce.

"Never you mind!" he snapped. "This isn't any of your business."

"Look, I agree. We only came out here because he pushed us into it."

"Oh, don't whine," the leader said. "It's a little late to say that after what that sorcerer of yours did." He glared at Slayn, who stared back, unfazed.

"Maybe you'd like to talk to Slayn about that," Etoh suggested, feeling suddenly clever. If the gag came off, the mage might have a few spells still left up his sleeve.

"I'm hardly that stupid," the leader scoffed. 

"Well, we're not getting anywhere like this." Gory battle aside, this felt like the conversation with Devin all over again. "What do you want from us? Why didn't you just kill us?" That last one made him feel especially bold. He didn't want to draw the creature's mind back towards the idea of disposing of them, but the whole situation has just strange enough to have an odd feeling of unreality to it. He kept expecting to wake up.

"I'm going to have a few words with you, little human, since we've agreed that you attacked us unfairly-"

"We didn't agree on anyth-" Etoh broke in.

"Agreed that you attacked us," the creature continued, "And you're going to tell me anything you know about the situation back in that village." There wasn't much that they knew about the situation back in the village, given that they'd only passed through briefly in the late afternoon. There was likely nothing they could tell the leader that it wouldn't have picked up already from it's night-time raids. And cooperation didn't seem like it would get them far. It seemed like the most he could do was push the leader in a certain way, and see how much information he could glean out of him. It seemed like the right thing to do, he'd also read about it in that story where the man with the mystical prophecy got tied up. He'd been out of his ropes and escaping by that point, having tricked the ogres into revealing the location of the captured princess, but Etoh reminded himself that not everyone worked at the same pace.

"How do you know we'll tell you anything? You keep talking about eating us, so what's the point? Or will you use your magic to pull it out of us?" 

Score. The goblin leader actually looked unsure for a moment, before going back to irritation. Maybe it didn't actually have the skills to make them talk using magic, given the haphazard way it was using it, Etoh thought, feeling wonderfully streetwise and tough.

"I don't need to use magic. I'm not the one tied up, and in imminent danger of being a main course." it leaned in towards him, leering.

"If you kill us, you'll never know what we know." Etoh stared up at the leader, forcing himself to not waver, despite the smell wavering down towards him. It wasn't that they knew something important at all, but if this…thing was so determined that they did, at least it would leave them alive for awhile. 

"You…you probably don't know anything, anyway!" the leader snapped, straightening up.

"Then why are you even talking to us?!" It was getting too frustrating for Etoh to even be frightened. It was like talking to Devin all over again, in more ways than one. 

"Because…because…you're my prisoners!" The leader stopped, and looked over Etoh's head, confusion swimming in it's yellow eyes. It seemed to be talking to itself when it started up again."  
"We captured you, fair and square, because you were going to attack us,"

"Because Devin took our friends, and forced us," Etoh broke in, but was ignored.

"And you killed several of my men, so it's only right that I use whatever means necessary to extract information out of you…"

"Like eating us," Etoh sighed. This time, a flicker of disquiet went across the leader's face.

"Well, of course we're not going to eat you right away. We'll…we'll…torture you first, and then we'll rip you apart one at a time!!" 

This just wasn't right. Etoh had a sneaking suspicion that this was the goblin leader's first interrogation. It seemed to be making things up as it went along. It was still big, muscled and very dangerous, but didn't seem nearly so intimidating now that it was stammering for words. 

"You don't even really eat people, do you?" he said, too caught up in the ridiculous situation to even be frightened any longer. The large red cape, which swirled around the leader every time it moved didn't help. And it was true that there had never been any solid proof of goblin dietary habits. The "be good or the goblins will eat you" story was just that - a story to frighten children. And people who managed one-on-one contact with goblins usually didn't stop to ask.

"Of course we do!" the leader explained, now looking openly disgusted. "Just…not quite yet, that's all." It stopped, shook it's head, and apparently found it's thread again.

"Now, you're going to stop talking nonsense, and tell me what you know about the village. And the stone," it added, towering over him again. 

"Stone?" Etoh asked innocently, enjoying the look of surprise and fury that crossed the leader's face again.

"You don't know about…? Forget it! Forget everything! It doesn't matter, you'll be dead by the end of the night, anyway. Honestly, maybe your sorcerer friend will be able to talk with a little more reason."

It was as the leader turned it's attention to Slayn that Etoh realized the sorcerer was whispering. He hadn't heard it before, but there it was…words mumbled through the gag in a low chant. It was a spell, which meant that the new most important task at hand was to get the leader's eyes back on him.

Distraction, he badly needed a distraction. Wood wasn't speaking or moving, and for all Etoh knew, could have finally passed out. So it was still up to him. But talk for the sake of talk wasn't exactly his forte. Etoh was a listener, not a talker. He snatched up the first coherent idea that formed in his mind.

"Now we've got you right where we want you!" he burst out suddenly. The leader turned it's gaze from Slayn to him, and straightened up.

"What are you talking about, little pink fleshy thing?"

"This was all part of an elaborate plan, we've got a whole army that hovering around this camp, and if you don't untie us now, you'll only have yourself to blame for the results!"

"Stop your blathering," the leader snapped. "I know you're only trying to save your life, and it's very sad to watch."

"No, really, if you don't untie us right now and let us go free, I can't be held responsible for the results! You'll be obliterated, when our friends come to-"

Etoh was silenced as something rough and scaly hit his face with sledgehammer force. He swayed and blinked at the stars bursting in front of his eyes. The goblin had punched him.

"I'm not going to listen to your damn begging. Now shut it, or I'll gag you." His thoughts were wandering around in little circles, and he struggled to pick one up and run with it. Maybe he couldn't fight, and maybe he couldn't even wriggled out of his ropes under duress (because he didn't have a damn mystical prophecy), but one thing he could do was talk. And if that meant getting hit, well, he'd just bear it. 

"Who's begging? I'm just trying to warn you, that if you keep us captive much longer, our friends will…." He trailed off, as the goblin leader gave him a look that was downright murderous. That possibility of that particular conversation track slammed shut.

Etoh risked a glance at his side. Slayn was still whispering, the slight movements of his fingers barely noticeable. Falis only knew how long the spell would take in casting, whatever it was. It would probably save all their lives, though, Slayn never took a risk that wasn't carefully calculated. Surely he could think of something else to fill up a few minutes. 

"Say," he piped up suddenly, "Have any of you ever thought about the joys of letting Falis come into your lives?" The leader looked back at him. 

"Now what?"

"You're all pawns for the powers of darkness, you know. Why else do you think you're so easily led? But with Falis in your life, you can be your own person…um…goblin…thing…"

"We are not easily led!" the leader snapped, looking surprisingly stricken. "We do our own thing, and _I am in charge!_" There wasn't time to think about what nerve he'd struck, and why. Etoh pushed on.

"Just think, if you accepted Falis into your hearts, you wouldn't have to eat people and live in caves. With the blessings of the God of Goodness, you could finally make peace with us-"

"Shut up!" It was actually, Etoh had to admit, a better reaction than he got when preaching in many towns. People there just tended to pretend he didn't exist.

"Let me start by reciting the first psalm. Maybe you could say it with me, and see how it makes you feel-" He stopped, as the leader was now standing over him, face tensed in fury. He wondered whether the distraction had perhaps been a huge mistake, but the staff, lying several yards behind the leader, began to glow. And the goblin's beady eyes were still focused on him.

"Great Falis, Creator of all things, Sustainer of all Life," Etoh chanted, screwing his eyes shut. He had a feeling he was going to be hit again, or worse, and didn't want to see it coming. He especially didn't want to look at the staff, for fear of what he might give away. And it was comforting, even in a situation like this, to block out the world, and put himself in his god's hands.

"You're doing something, aren't you…you're trying to distract me…from something.." The suspicion in the leader's voice trailed off, but suddenly, there were shouts and screams from all around them. Etoh opened his eyes to see the goblins standing guard collapse, their eyes gone white and blank. And he suddenly wished he hadn't opened them, as he saw the leader lunging forward towards him.

"You're casting a spell!" it roared, looking more frightening than it had during the battle. Etoh could only flinch back, and watch the claws sweep in towards his face. And then, a bony hand from his left side seized the goblin's wrist, and shoved it back. Woodchuck had apparently finally understood Etoh's message about the knife. The thief jumped up, ropes falling away from him, and began systematically pounding the leader in the face, while Slayn's muffled chanting rose and fell. In a moment, the goblin band was down, most from Slayn's spell, and the leader from the constant face-to-knuckle contact. 

And it looked like it was all, miraculously over. 

"Wood! You're okay?" Etoh would not have put it past the thief to have been over-playing his injury, so that he wouldn't be closely watched.

"No," Wood replied, curtly, tossing the unconscious leader down. As if to prove his point, he swayed like a drunkard, and collapsed onto his knees. He managed to still reach out and cut Etoh's ropes off, the priest flinching back a little nervously. Having a man who apparently couldn't see straight slashing at you was mighty uncomfortable. 

"Hold still." Now that they weren't in immediate danger, Etoh got down to the business he knew best. He was, for a moment, tempted to slap Wood on the forehead and yell, "Heal!" the way he'd seen a rather showy cleric doing it in the market place. That urge passed mercifully quickly, and he murmured prayers to sweep cobwebs away from the mind, stop bleeding inside and out, and whatever else might be needed. Head injuries were unpredictable, and still a bit of a mystery to the priests treating them. What went on under the skull could only be understood after the skull was opened up, and at that point, the patient was a little beyond the help of a healer. Fortunately, the feel of the wound faded quickly under Etoh's hands. Wood waved an experimental hand in front of his eyes, stood up carefully, and gave Etoh an appreciative smile. 

"Now that's something. Think Falis would do that for hang-overs?"

"Falis," Etoh dead-panned, "has no mercy for hang-overs."

"Falis don't have mercy for much, do he?" An argument rose immediately to Etoh's mind, a by-product of too much time in seminary, but he shoved it down and smiled instead. After their experience, bantering felt kind of good. His good mood was interrupted by an indignant "mmph!" coming from behind him, and he remembered that Slayn was, in fact, still bound and gagged.

"I was wondering how long you two were going to let me sit there," the mage sighed, as Wood pulled the cloth out of his mouth.

"Quiet, or we'll put the gag right back on," Wood grinned, cutting the rope off his hands.

"I did rather save the day, you know."

"Yes, yes, we all owe you one, don't get huffy. If we're talking about credit, I think I get an 'I told you so', also." 

"Who's huffy? It's been a long night," Slayn protested.

It had been, because it took quite a lot to get the calm and balanced mage irritable. He was pale and shaky, and had to be helped onto his feet. Given that he'd used enough magic to exhaust himself, then still managed to cast one more difficult spell, this was understandable.

"You really did save us, Slayn. Thank you," Etoh said solemnly, feeling that the mage deserved some real praise. He offered him a shoulder to lean on.

"No, you don't have to say any…it was nothing much, really." Not one to stay angry, Slayn was quickly back to his familiar, humble, easily embarrassed self. 

"No, it was a very neat trick. I dunno why you're always down on yourself." Wood was tying the goblin leader's hands and feet in much the same way he had been bound.

"I still have a lot to learn," Slayn gasped automatically.

"Where are we going?" Etoh asked, as Wood pulled up the leader, and tossed it (with some obvious effort) over his shoulder. He gave Etoh and Slayn a speculative look.

"I don't suppose we could head back to town tonight….."

Etoh was going to offer a diplomatic answer and save Slayn the discomfort of being the temporary weak link, but the sorcerer didn't seem to mind:

"No," he said flatly. "I can't make it without rest."

"Right…I figured. But we should probably get out of here. I dunno what these things'll do when they wake up."

"They'll probably scatter," Slayn explained. "Without some kind of evil influence, they're not likely to go after the village again. But it would be good not to be right here when they all come to." 

So they managed to stumble along for about fifteen minutes, before deciding good enough was good enough, and settling down for the night. There wasn't any chance of going to sleep with a band of twenty some goblins soon to be wandering around the hills, even if they weren't likely to attack. Etoh was too charged up to sleep, at any rate. Slayn collapsed in the grass, yawning.

"Do you mind…if I…?" He trailed off sleepily.

"Go ahead…we'll stay up and keep watch," Etoh said.

"Don't let me sleep all night….and wake me up if it…" he gestured vaguely at the goblin leader," comes to. I want to know how it learned to speak and use magic. And I especially want to know what that band was searching for before we go back to Devin." 

Etoh intended to let Slayn sleep as long as possible, all night if necessary, but he nodded solemnly.

There really wasn't much left to do. Etoh considered giving the goblin leader some holy healing, but decided that the bruises weren't worth the effort. Besides, magic might wake it up sooner, and he wanted to let Slayn rest. 

"So, do you two have any spells to make it talk? Or should we just beat it up? More so, I mean." Woodchuck was sitting with his back to the other two, watching the moon-lit hills carefully. 

"Slayn's got a truth-telling spell…but it's a bit unreliable."

Etoh didn't have to look to see that Slayn had dropped off. There was an empty silence where a scholarly explanation should have been.

"And I've got a spell to tell if someone is telling the truth…but I can't force information out of anyone."

"Ah. Right. Use that often, do you?"

"Not on this trip," Etoh said. He was tempted to add, "Lie often, do you?" but suppressed the urge. "We use it to try and settle disputes, search out spies…it's not completely reliable either, so we try not to let monarchs depend on it, but it can be useful."

"Sounds like something we could use in the guild," Wood said idly. "Would settle a lot of problems."

"You guys actually care about honesty?"

"Well, yeah…we do have to keep some kind of order, otherwise soldiers'd be down on us in a second. And people like to keep track of who owes who…we're pretty serious about that. I mean, people get bonded into the guild just to pay off debts."

"What kind of horrible organization do you work for?!" It wasn't really an accusation, just incredulity.

"Oh, we're not that bad. We wind up raising more unwanted kids than your orphanages. And we let them have a lot more fun," he added with a grin. 

"How do children wander into the thieves' guild?"

"Very easily. You'd be surprised. Kids run away from home, or they get pulled off the street…women in the guild get knocked up…some people actually get married, if you'd believe it. And a good number of kids wind up sold to us…"

"That's horrible," Etoh repeated, not sure if he wanted to hear any more.

Wood turned around to look at Etoh. 

"Look, the thieves guild really isn't all that vicious-"

Etoh snorted, in spite of himself. 

"No, really. We're in the stealing business, not the murder business. People mostly keep to themselves, and the guild leaders don't have much to say to you unless you stir up serious trouble. But we're very, very serious about money. If you owe the guild a debt, they'll chase you across the island, and carve it out of you. Some people, with six or seven kids too many, will just hand one of them over and let him work the debt off. And that kid usually stays with us, because most ain't gonna go back to a family that did that to them."

"It ain't exactly a practice I'm fond of, and I wish sometimes that we didn't do it, but hey, not much I can do," he added, looking away.

A light went on in Etoh's head.

"Is that…." he ventured hesitantly, with a side-long glance at the thief, "Is that what happened to you?"

"Well…ye-es…" Wood said carefully. But not the way you're thinking."

"What do you think I'm thinking?"

"I _think_, " Wood continued, "that you're imagining me as an innocent little farm boy getting dragged off to a life of crime by the big, bad thieves guild."

That was, actually, what Etoh had been picturing, complete with a scruffy young boy wailing, "Father, no!", and a stern-faced farmer saying, "Sorry, son, this is the way it has to be."

"Um…"

"Look, quit trying to make excuses for me."

"Huh?"

"I think," Wood said, putting his arms behind his head, and leaning back casually, "that you've noticed by now that I'm not a horrible person, but you hate the kind of life I lead. So you're trying to figure out a way to make it not my fault. Unless I'm reading you wrong, here. I don't really know if you actually care that much."

"I'm not….I mean, I do care, but I'm not trying to…" Etoh stammered. There had always been a nasty contradiction in the teachings of Falis when it came to dealing with people of this particular social class. It was, "Falis is just, and the law must be upheld", vs. "Priests must show kindness and charity to all people." Etoh had usually compromised with a polite disdain, but spending time with Woodchuck, who seemed completely unashamed of his work (if it could really be called that), and was yet oddly likable, made it difficult.

"So, why are you like this?!" he burst out, frustrated. 

"Etoh…relax and quit worrying so much," Wood drawled, looking amused. "The problem with you priests is, you get so uptight about rules that don't really matter."

"Those rules are important. They keep people from getting hurt."

"I don't really hurt people, though, not if I can help it. I just take stuff that ain't that important to them, anyway. I mean, if they really cared about their stuff, they'd keep a better watch on it."

"Most people aren't expecting to have their goods stolen out from under them."

"Their loss," Wood shrugged. "Heck, most people that we steal from are probably taught a valuable lesson about being careless. I figure, the worst I do is ruin someone's day, and given that I've had much worse things done to me, that almost puts me on the moral high ground."

Etoh had no answer to counter this argument. He was used to morality being debated rationally, and this was not quite logic.

"Look, I steal things because it's what I've been doing since I was four years old," Wood went on. "My dad was teaching me to pick pockets about as far back as I can remember. It's just like people that train to be knights, or priests, or mages. People get brought up a certain way, and they kind of walk themselves into a rut. And this is mine - it's what I know, it's what I do well, and I couldn't imagine doing anything else. And trust me…all in all, there's much worse things to do with your time."

"You're doing something else right now," Etoh pointed out, "Aren't you?"

"Well…yeah…but this is kind of a special case. I mean, this…it ain't quite me.." Wood shifted uncomfortably. "Don't get me wrong, I like you guys, and I don't mind risking my life for you, but I sure as hell wouldn't be doing this ultra-noble 'stand and fight' thing if I wasn't with you. I'd be doing the smart thing, the 'turn and run' thing."

"But you're doing a lot more than most thieves would do, I'll bet, "Etoh pressed. "Maybe you don't think you can be noble, but you must have the potential for it, otherwise you wouldn't even be here."

"I'm here because I owe your little idealistic buddy my life, and I wanna pay him back. Ain't nothing noble about it. And this quest thing won't last forever. Once it's done, I figure Slayn'll go back to being a small-town mage, and you'll go back to doing priest things, and I'll got back to doing what I do. Which I haven't been allowed to do much of on this trip…" Wood sighed, staring down at his hands. "Look, believe it or not, I've been on good behavior here, and it isn't always easy, and I know I can't do it forever. So quit pushing."

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, something that really was much easier when Parn wasn't around. 

"So..did you really get sold into debt slavery?" Etoh finally jumped backwards to a less controversial conversation point, not wanting to end things on an awkward note. 

"Oh, that?" Wood waved a dismissive hand, lapsing back into casual apathy. "Yeah, that happened a couple of times, but it wasn't really dramatic. Dad gambled a lot, and he had a tendency to make messes, then shove me in the middle of them and run away."

"It ain't like I was traumatized, or nothing," he added, noting Etoh's suddenly sympathetic look. "It just pissed me off, and after it happened a few times, I quit caring so much."

"That's terrible thing for a father to do."

"Oh, don't worry, I did stuff to him that was just as bad," Wood said cheerfully. "Nothing like a little back-stabbing and hatred for a healthy father-son relationship. It's just the way it is between guys. You're sort of a Mama's boy, ain't you?" he speculated.

"Yeah, sort of," Etoh admitted. "My father died in an accident when I was little, so it was just my mother and I for a long time…then she…got sick." Now it was Etoh's turn to trail off. He wished they had a fire there; it was always so convenient to stare at it when you didn't want to look your companion in the face. 

"As long as we're telling each other our origins, let me guess…you lost her, and you were so upset, you decided to become a Falis priest, so you could spare other people that kind of grief. Am I close?" Wood was ticking off the list casually, but seemed to be making a conscience effort not to be callous.

"No," Etoh murmured.

"No?"

"No. I was already planning on the priesthood. Actually, after Mother died…I sort of lost my faith."

"Really?" Woodchuck raised an interested eyebrow, which was a lot for a man who generally shrugged while everyone else was talking about justice, and passion, and group togetherness. 

"It was…hard," Etoh sighed. He was tempted not to say anything more, but decided that if a cynical and often aloof thief could explain his life and motivations, it was the least a priest could do. Hell, he was supposed to be good at this sort of thing.

"We were very close. I suppose…she was a little over-protective." That was an understatement. Etoh's mother had gotten hysterical whenever he was stayed out past sun-down, even if it was at his best friend's little cottage a few short minutes away. "She was the most important thing in my life at the time, and when she was ill, all I wanted was for her to be saved. I'd get up before dark in the morning, and just pray until the sunrise…asking Falis to make her well…or at least let me take the burden of her sickness." Etoh trailed off again, feeling a blush creep up his face. It wasn't the first time he had talked about this - Parn had heard all about it. But a certain local bully had caught Etoh one of those early mornings, shoved his face into the dirt, and never let him hear the end of it. Then again, that bully was being strangely quiet now, and Woodchuck, whom Etoh had not expected any understanding from, was keeping thankfully, respectfully silent.

"Well, after awhile, I just lost hope. My prayers started getting more and more bitter…I was actually sarcastic with the Supreme God of Light. Can you believe it?" Etoh managed to smile. Laughing at oneself always helped. 

"Oh, I can believe it," said Wood, with a brief, guilty look upward, suggesting that he was probably sarcastic with the Supreme God of Light on a regular basis.

"Towards the end, I just started praying that Falis would take her quickly, and spare her the pain. But I didn't even get that, really. So, when it was finally over, I just….gave up on my god for awhile. It wasn't just that I was angry. I wondered what the point was."

"So, why the hell are you-" Wood started, then bit off the sentence mid-thought. When he began again, it was with the careful hesitation of one who is not used to tact, and is now looking for it.

"If you felt like that then, how did you wind up where you are now?"

"Well…I always felt him." Etoh wrapped his arms around himself, remembering the moments of peace that would come upon him on those early mornings. Nothing so dramatic as a hand on his shoulder, or a breeze on his face - just a quiet little warmth, blossoming in his heart. It was that kind of feeling that reminded Etoh exactly why he wanted to be a messenger, teacher, healer, and whatever else was necessary in the name of this god. "It was just my own arrogance, that I thought my needs were more important than others. Falis loves everyone, but he can't always save everyone. And he shouldn't, otherwise…well, life wouldn't be life if our god just protected us from everything."

Woodchuck muttered something that Etoh didn't quite catch, but sounded suspiciously like, "Heard that before."

"Anyway," Etoh went on, "I grew up as a spiritual person. I couldn't really abandon my religion, not matter what happened. After Mother died, it was all I had. Besides Parn, I mean. So I had to go back…"

"I gotcha…" Wood said, resting his chin on one hand thoughtfully. "Not about religion, of course…I've never gotten that at all. But I probably wouldn't have stuck around with Dad for so long if I'd had better options."

"I don't know if that's quite the same thing….I mean, Falis is there for me," Etoh said, slightly irked at the comparison. Mostly in defense of his god, whom he didn't care to see lowered, even in jest, even in hypothetical situations. 

"Oh, c'mon, he wasn't that bad. I mean, he didn't hit me…" Wood trailed off, a distant look in his eyes, as though picking through old memories. "Well, not much anyway. And he looked out for me…um…sometimes…occasionally….well, almost never…but….but….he had some good points, really…"

Wood stopped and scowled, some kind of internal battle obviously lost.

"Come to think of it, he was an asshole, and I hated him. Thanks for reminding me." He crossed his arms and glared into the fire, not responding to Etoh's quick, stammered, ""Sorry!" 

Uncomfortable silence once again, broken only in Etoh's mind, where Jardin was snickering. 

"One of your _only_ so-called talents, and you screwed it up," he crowed. 

"Oh, shut up…just shut up," Etoh thought back wearily. He had been known in his village as a good counselor, although most people didn't realize that the word was synonymous with "good listener". That was all one really needed to do to relieve most people of their troubles, and Etoh, quiet, shy, mostly unpopular little Mama's boy Etoh, was very good at sitting back and listening. He really didn't want to leave the conversation like this.

"So…how about this crazy war, huh?" he said finally, looking for a safe topic of conversation. Woodchuck looked up, not seeming particularly angry any more, Etoh was relieved to see.

"Etoh," he said, not unkindly, but sounding a little exasperated, "Why don't we just sit and wait for awhile, huh?" 

That, Etoh decided, was well enough, and it was time to leave well enough alone.

So they sat. And waited. 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimers, etc. - I think I've made it clear that I don't own these characters, I just like to write about them. I'm really sorry, people, it's taken me way too long to finish this. That'll teach me to start a story without a clear idea where I was going with it. I feel like the plot has gotten kind of complicated and contrived and I'm not entirely happy with it, but hey, you guys deserve an ending. At any rate, it is finished, and I'm putting up the last two chapters at once. To anyone still reading/reviewing, thank you. I appreciate the heck out it. 

There - the Crown of Falis, gemstones set glittering against the night sky. It had taken Etoh a long while to find it, but now his fingers traced the lines between the stars. Etoh liked constellations. They were powerful reminders of the divine, but, from a distance, could be cupped in the palm of one's hand. He'd always been good at finding them, and liked to reorient himself every night as they traveled across the country.

So, from the Crown of Falis, it was just a little ways down to Rheanon, the Great White Dragon, long dead but still majestic in the sky, and then to the left was the constellation that teenage boys searched eagerly for, and were ultimately disappointed by - Kendrick and Arion, The Lovers. The star-shapes were far less detailed than the diagrams handed out in class, which had a tendency to be shoved under mattresses and floorboards. Astronomy was one of the few ways that Etoh had found to repay Parn, for his constant "big brother" protection. The young knight looked up at the sky and just saw a disorganized mess of light, so Etoh connected the dots for him. It wasn't much, but it had kept his friend from bringing home failing marks.

It was a peaceful moment, and Etoh was reveling in it. His heart had slowed down, his fingers were no longer twitching nervously - he could almost pretend that he had been sitting there all night, as opposed to opposed to being involved in a surprise attack, a battle, and some really confusing interrogation. Slayn was still sleeping, and Etoh could hear the goblin leader's heavy breath rasping steadily in and out. Woodchuck had decided, without leaving much room for discussion, that he was going to check on the whereabouts of the goblin band, and slipped off into the dark like a cat (a lanky, awkward, clumsy-looking cat - yet still somehow silent and graceful.) That had been a tenses half-hour, but he'd come back to announce that they seemed to be wandering back up into the mountains. He seemed content to sit in silence, watching over the captured leader. Etoh had asked during one bored stretch whether he knew any folk songs. He'd said yes, but they all included the word "knickers." Etoh decided to drop it, and pass the time watching the stars.

Said stars were beginning to blur when Etoh realized he was getting drowsy. He'd already mistaken Balru the Great Ox for Lenolan the Elven King (because horns and pointy ears looked surprisingly similar late at night), and the knowledge of the star patterns were starting to slip away. He was just refilling the gaps in his memory with names like, "Epitus, Lord of the something-or-other", and "That boxy looking thing over there…maybe a duck…" when he heard a sudden break in the thick breathing, and a vague muttering that was more growl than words.

"It's awake," Woodchuck announced, standing over the goblin leader warily even as Etoh looked around. 

"It can't escape that rope, can it?" Etoh was wide awake again, and considering the situation.

"Please. Not with the knots I used. Or, at least…it probably can't. Never actually tied up a goblin, before," Wood amended quickly, with the look of one hoping to avoid serious responsibility if his prediction turned out wrong.

"Oh, I _trust _you," Etoh said with a wide, innocent, not entirely cruel smile. Wood, not one to take compliments at face value, scowled at Etoh as he went past to wake Slayn. Looking down at the still pale mage, Etoh was tempted to just let him lie there. But the goblin leader would be up and vocal soon, and there was no way Slayn could sleep through that.

"It's up?" Slayn asked, when Etoh gently shook him, apparently self-possessed enough not to have to ask the usual, "Where am I?" questions that Etoh had whenever he slept. He couldn't count the number of times he'd woken up along their journey, usually in the dark, dawn hours, and thought for a moment that he was in the field beside his house.

"Yes." Slayn sighed, pointed his staff at the quickly waking goblin, and murmured a few words.

"What…?"

"It's a spell that'll mute his magic power. It's not that difficult, if you're using it on someone who doesn't have shields up. I don't know why he didn't use it on us." Even tired and slightly breathless, Slayn still found the strength to explain things.

"Couldn't you have used that on Devin?"

"Not in a crowd like that. He's got a strange, volatile magic field around him, the same one that was interfering with the search spell earlier. I could break his shields, I think, but I'm afraid to hit that field with strong magic."

"What the hell is this shit?!" A jagged cry interrupted their otherwise civilized conversation. It was the goblin leader, thrashing and tearing at the ropes on it's wrists and ankles (which, thankfully, showed no signs of giving way). "Who the hell do you think you are, tying me up like this?"

"We mean you no harm," Slayn said sincerely. "We just want to ask you a few questions about the situation. I think you'll find us kinder interrogators then you were to us," he added meaningfully.

"You can't do this to me! I'm the leader! I'm in charge!" the leader snapped, its coarse voice coming dangerously close to a whine. "I'll……I'll use magic!" 

"Try," Slayn dead-panned.

The leader murmured a few words, then repeated them a little louder. It tried again, rocking back and forth, shouting spells up at the sky, mingled with a few curses. No response. Manna, source of all things was temporarily out of service.

"What did you do to me?!"

"It's a spell. You have not been otherwise harmed. Your magic will return to you in about a day." Slayn was the very picture of reason. 

"Please, we're not going to hurt you. You have my word as a Phallis priest," Etoh said. He realized even as he said it that his status as a priest, normally a symbol of honesty, mercy, and nonviolence, wouldn't necessarily mean a damn thing to a goblin.

"Like I know that for sure?" the leader sneered. "You could just be some guy dressed up like a priest. The only thing you look like to me is one of the guys that tied me up. And I ain't telling you shit!" It began a particularly vile string of name-calling, ignoring Slayn's repeated assurances that no one was going to harm it. Woodchuck, who had some experience with tied hostages (on both sides of the fence) took the opportunity to step in. He let the sole of one boot rest on the creature's throat, and carefully increased pressure until it was no longer speaking or moving, just staring up at him defiantly.  
"Shut. The fuck. Up," he said, fixing the leader with a cold glare. "We ain't gonna hurt you if you cooperate. But if you keep screaming, I'm just gonna keep doing this." 

"Don't…" Etoh felt the need to speak up against obvious torture.

"Hey, if you've got some kind of mute spell that'll shut this guy up, be my guest." Wood gestured towards the tied goblin, as though inviting Etoh to take a turn. "I'm just imposing a little order." He stepped back from the goblin, though, giving it another look that suggested he could do horrible things to it in a heartbeat, regardless of his companions' protests.

"We mean you no harm," Slayn repeated firmly, a trifle exasperated.

The goblin struggled into a sitting position, so as to better lock eyes with the mage.

"Could have fooled me," it said.

"Now if we could just talk like civilized people," Slayn pushed on.

"Oh, does that mean humans? Because of course we goblins aren't capable of being civilized on our own!" the leader snapped. 

"That's not what we're saying….we just want to talk to you…" Etoh tried. Already the conversation looked like it was going to pace tired circles, probably all night. 

"About what?" the leader's eyes narrowed into suspicious yellow slits. 

"What you and your little band are doing here, why you're attacking that village, how you know Devin, how you learned to speak our language…" Slayn ticked off the reasons on well-organized fingers.

"You mean, what my little band and I were doing….I suppose you probably killed the rest of my men," the leader said sullenly. 

"We didn't!" Etoh broke in, brimming over with good-natured charity, and hoping to communicate a little of that to the goblin leader. He truly didn't want to kill or hurt the creature, in spite of it's treatment of them. There were reasons, after all, that they were the good guys. "They had a spell on their minds. Slayn removed it, and they went away peacefully." That was making it sound like the goblin band had exchanged pleasantries with the group before going home (perhaps to a neighborhood committee meeting), but it was close enough. The goblins had scattered with no further violence.

The yellow eyes popped open in surprise, and an expression flickered on the leader's face that, on a human, might have been recognizable as gratitude. Then suspicion shut the doors again, before Etoh could be sure of what he had seen.

"You're lying." 

"We're not." Slayn seemed to think that answered everything. 

"Why the hell should I believe you?!"

"Why would we lie about it?" Etoh found that, despite everything, he wanted the goblin to trust them, not just talk under pressure. He supposed it was just a lingering distaste for cruelty, but really, the situation was getting interesting. The leader's quick, careless comments about Devin during their interrogation made him wonder exactly who had committed the first offense. It seemed obvious that it would have been the goblins, but hell, what if it wasn't? What if they'd just been minding their own business, and Devin, pompous idiot that he seemed to be, had stirred them up for some reason? Who were the bad guys then, huh?

"And once again, wishy-washy Etoh can't do anything but sit on the fence." Ah. Jardin. Etoh had been wondering when the bullying mental voice was going to make another appearance, to pick at him for some personal fault that he was already well aware of. He was beginning to find that ignoring the voice made it go away, and decided to keep it up. 

In the meantime, Woodchuck, who seemed to understand suspicion and even respect it, was attempting to use a little logic on the goblin leader. 

"Look….you had us at your mercy. Do you really think we could take out your whole band alone?"

"That spell you were casting-" the leader accused.

"Is the same spell that Etoh's talking about. I dunno what it was really-"

"It was a spell for purity of mind. It removed the evil influence on your men," Slayn interjected.

"Oh, please! How do I know you didn't just do that head-exploding thing that you did before?!"

"That was an accident! And it wouldn't have happened if you hadn't interfered with the spell."

"If he'd done the head-exploding thing," Woodchuck offered reasonably, "We'd all be splattered in goblin guts. We're not. Well, Etoh sort of is, but that's from before." 

Etoh noticed for the first time, the dried goblin brain still spattered across the back of his robes. He grimaced, and began brushing at it with one hand, then realized that touching the stuff bare-handed was even worse than having it on his clothing. His teacher had given him the robes upon his graduation from the seminary, and he could only imagine what that kindly, meticulous old man would have to say if he could see the state of them now. Well, such was life in the real world.

"You could have changed clothing." The goblin wasn't giving an inch.

"We're wearing the _exact_ same thing that we did before," Wood said, letting aggravation not slip so much as pour into his tone. "If you can't figure that out, you're not fit to be a leader of anything." 

"How dare you! Do you have any idea how difficult my position is?!" The goblin looked righteously indignant.

"Do you think I care?" 

"We'd know if you'd tell us," Slayn broke in gently. The leader turned it's misshapen head to regard the mage, and was quiet for a moment.

"If you…removed the spell from the minds of my men…" it began slowly, carefully. "Which direction did they go when they left the area?" 

"You can't expect us to know-" Slayn began, but Wood interrupted him:

"East, towards the mountains." He pointed a thumb in that vague direction. "I went back and watched. They both stayed here, so they wouldn't know."

"You…could have guessed…" the leader was hesitant, now, sounding like he had at the end of the interrogation. Hopefully this meant that their interrogation would go better, and without resorting to threats and violence. Further threats and violence, that was. 

"You're going to have to trust us, eventually," Slayn argued. "At least, trust us enough to explain the situation. We could take you back to where we fought, and show you that there are no bodies, but we can't prove to you that your men are still alive without taking you back to the mountains and finding them."

"And even you wouldn't be so stupid." It was a minor nod of respect from the goblin, as well as an acknowledgement of the situation. He was, for the time being, immobile and under their control. 

"If someone's put a spell on the minds of your men," Slayn continued, "then we may have a common enemy." Never mind the fact that they had never wanted to do this in the first place. But Etoh could see the scholarly light flashing in Slayn's eyes, now. Intellectual curiosity was both a help and a hindrance to the mage, and it didn't just seize him when magic was at stake. He loved puzzles of every kind, both in real life and on paper. This was no exception.

"It's not like you have much choice anyway," Wood added glibly, apparently enjoying his position as strong-arm of the group. He had positioned himself between Slayn and the leader, a step back so that the two could actually talk face to face, but close enough that he could separate them immediately if something should happen. 

"I…don't suppose I do…" The goblin spared the thief a quick glare, but mostly seemed to be thinking hard. It's acceptance of the situation didn't seem like a cowardly one - it wasn't begging for it's life, or cringing away from torture. What it seemed to be doing, and Etoh had trouble believing it, having seen so little on this ridiculous side-trip, was behaving in a reasonable manner. The thought that they might have a more rational conversation with the goblin leader than they had had with the local sorcerer seemed like another point against human nature. Then again, Etoh could call it a point in favor of goblin nature. He was going to see the bright side of the situation if killed him. 

"What I'm particularly interested in hearing," Slayn said, "is how you learned to talk like a human. I'm not trying to insult your species, but I've never met a goblin that could."

The leader pulled one lip down into an ugly sneer, glaring past Slayn at something only it could see. Then it look back up at him, raising one hairy eyebrow.

"I just want to make one thing perfectly clear. It's all Devin's fault. We weren't messing with him before. He was the one looking for the stone, he was the one that cast spells on us - he's just reaping what he sowed at this point."

"That's…an interesting thing to hear," said Slayn. "Especially given the way he treated us."

"Did he really send you guys out forcefully? Like little priest boy here says?" 

"Yes, it's just like he said. Devin took our friends, and threatened to keep us there unless we came out after you," Slayn confirmed. He didn't add the part about lying, and claiming to be goblin hunters, but that was probably for the best.

"So…. Seeing as I'm your helpless prisoner and all…do you want to hear about exactly why I can talk, or do you want me to start from the beginning?"

"Both," said Slayn eagerly. The goblin gave him an irritated look, and he corrected himself: "Well, best to start from the beginning."

Etoh stepped back a pace, as the goblin sat up straighter, looking like a story-teller about to begin a particularly long tale. It was time for him to be useful again. There was, as he had said before, a spell that allowed him to detect sincerity in a speaker. There weren't really magic words to be used, it was just a matter of concentration. He stared hard at the goblin, willing himself to see not only around, but through the creature. It's sharp features seemed to become sharper, distinct against a now fuzzy background - and then he felt his eyes shift. Colors sprang out of the air, and flowed around the captive - brown, green, blue, with flashes of red and black. A surprising amount of humanity, for a goblin. But then, he'd never _seen_ one before. 

Each person (or creature, for that matter), exuded a certain amount of spiritual energy, an aura, and a trained priest could see the colors when he looked just the right way. It was seeing a private mind opened up - personality, memories, and emotions were all reflected in the swirling, changing colors. Lies were easily detected - as a contradiction between thought and word, they rippled across an aura like a stone dropped in a still pond. Etoh didn't actually like to do it often. Difficulty aside, it was a matter of privacy. He felt like a voyeur, and a sneak, as though he was looking at someone naked. Already he was unintentionally seeing the auras of his two companions ("spying", Jardin was kind enough to provide the word.) Slayn was all blue and silver - dignity and bright, untarnished intelligence. Woodchuck was wrapped in a friendly dark green, stained with black spots and ragged at the edges - like a well-worn traveling cloak. But he felt strangely dishonest to be using this spell on the goblin without informing him. It was already bound and helpless, and it had really no way of knowing whether they were really going to spare it after the interrogation. He felt a nagging need to stand up for honesty, and decided, despite sensible reservations, to follow up on it. 

"Um…excuse me.." he stammered. "I'm, uh…I'm casting a spell now, to make sure that you're telling the truth. It won't affect you at all, I just…uh….I thought I'd let you know." He felt like a moron, but he was still a priest. And he had to act like one, no matter how strange the situation got. 

Wood looked disgusted, and, to Etoh's surprise, so did the goblin.

"You don't _tell_ him that, Etoh," the thief snapped. 

"I can't exactly stop you from casting it, so why are you bothering?" The goblin sounded amused.

"I…I just thought you should know." Etoh was now blushing madly. A hard-boiled mercenary he was not. Somewhere in his head, Jardin was snickering, and Etoh told him, in his best Woodchuck impression, to "Shut the fuck up." The bully laughed it off, which was probably to be expected. Etoh couldn't bring himself to even think the word with any conviction. 

"Well, anyway," the goblin went on, ignoring Etoh's announcement. "Here's the deal. When all this mess first got started, we were all pretty much minding our own business up in the mountains. Sometimes we'd eat a traveler or two, but I figure you pretty much get what you deserve if you wanna wander alone up there."

"So, you really do eat people?" Etoh questioned. "Because you didn't seem to actually want to when you captured us." Asking questions was about all he could do while maintaining the spell, which would start to make his eyes water after too long. 

The goblin looked uncomfortable, almost a trifle disgusted. It's aura flickered, not with dishonesty, but in the jagged grey lines of self-conflict. 

"We…we do. Nothing wrong with it, it's just what goblins do. I mean, we've got to survive somehow…"

"But you don't like it," Etoh pressed.

"Well, of course I don't like it now! Now I can talk to you people! Hell, I'll be you'd be a little less eager to eat venison if deer could talk." The goblin jumped back to the defense he had used last time.

"But deer can't talk-"

"That's what we used to think about people! You think we can make heads or tails of your language? You sound about the same to us as we sound to you. And honestly…" The leader paused, and looked glum. "…I don't really think it'd matter if we did understand. Our social set-up isn't exactly…complex. We sort of go along with our instincts…and a lot of it involves eating."

"I think I understand," Slayn said, scholarly interest not quite keeping the faint disgust off his face. The goblin seemed to notice, and went on the defensive.

"Not like it's a bad way to live! It's just different! I mean, hell, it's not like we usually eat productive members of society, anyway. Just the average idiot who wanders into the woods. And if we're going into a village, which we don't do all that often, by the way, we go after the young ones. You know, the really little ones that aren't really contributing…drag on the whole village, if you want my opinion."

Etoh began to understand, although he really didn't want to. Something cold was eating at his gut.

"You……you eat babies?!" It came out louder then he intended. He lost hold of the spell, and the colors shut off abruptly. 

"What? What's wrong with that?! They don't actually do anything! Just sit there and cry. Better off without them, if you ask me." 

Etoh opened his mouth for a moral protest, because the righteous indignation was running high. The goblin went on, digging itself in a little deeper.

"And babies are so nice and tender. You know, like veal. They're soft and plump."

"T…Tender? Soft and plump?!" Etoh exploded, horrified. Slayn was wearing the same expression, scholarly interest rapidly draining away. He'd gone even paler, which was difficult to do.

"Now, you see, this is why the species will never get along-" the goblin continued.

"Maybe you'd better just stop trying to explain," Wood cut in. He looked, if anything, grimly amused. "Go back, and tell us what happened while you were hanging out in the mountains."

Ignoring his lurching stomach (because he was not going to throw up twice in one night), Etoh concentrated on casting the spell again. It was better that way. If he could look at the aura, then his eyes wouldn't be straying so often onto the goblin's teeth. 

"We were hanging out in the mountains…doing what's perfectly natural for goblins to do, thank you very much!" the leader was clinging to the defensive, but the grey lines were there again, crackling through the aura like lightening. "I mean, we weren't even eating any damn babies. We hadn't done that for awhile!"

"Enough with the babies! We don't care. Well, they do, but I don't." Wood was either being kind, or hoping to speed things up. Probably the latter. "Just tell us what happened."

"Well, then Devin showed up. And he smelled like magic. Not as much as he does now, but - "

"Ah, yes. Goblins can detect magic through scent, can't you?" Slayn was, again, brimming with interest. "I'd heard rumors about that, but…how does it work?" He was leaning towards the goblin, a little too close for comfort. Wood, frowning, grabbed one shoulder and pushed the mage's upper half back out of the captive's reach. 

"I don't know! I just know that it smells like burning metal, most of the time. I mean, you humans complain that we smell, but you wouldn't believe the stench that you mages carry around." Slayn didn't appear offended, but he was also very good at keeping his face a calm mask (especially when a certain elf and a certain dwarf were at each other's throats.)

"Anyway. Of course, we didn't know who he was at the time. He had on this long brown shirt and grey pants - "

"That's a student's uniform - from the mage's academy," Slayn interjected.

"Yeah, yeah, I know already, fact man. I got a whole mess of human knowledge squashed into my head, and I understand how your little uniform system works."

"Human knowledge….?" asked Wood. 

"Later, later. That's later in the story. Anyway, he came stumbling right into our camp, lost and stupid, like most town humans get in forest. Honestly, you all sound like.." the goblin stopped to fumble for a comparison, "um…you know, big clumsy stumbling things. With huge feet. Anyway, we'd seen him coming from a mile away, but I was holding everyone back. I wanted to see how far he would get without noticing us around him. I mean, you wouldn't believe the looks on people's faces when we step out of the shadows all around them. Really entertaining."

"If you're a goblin, I suppose." Etoh pursed his lips disapprovingly.

"Oh, c'mon, I'm I know humans do it, too. You know what I'm talking about, right, thief?"

"Yeah, it is kind of fun when you grab someone by the throat all of a sudden, and - " Woodchuck, who had dropped his tough guy demeanor to smile in lazy reminiscence, suddenly noticed Etoh glaring at him. "and….and…politely offer to escort them across the street?"

"Nice try," the priest said, shaking his head.

"Can we get back to Devin?" Slayn dragged things back on track. "You were watching him."

"Yeah, we were watching him and I leaped out at him first, because I'm the leader, and nobody gets first blood but me. He jumps back with this girly little shriek, and starts trying to talk to me. Of course, I only know that now…at the time, he was just making funny human-noises. And I wasn't interested at all, but I was taking my time creeping up to him, brandishing the claws and the teeth. I mean, it isn't just that we like being cruel. I don't think we're any worse than you humans are. It's just that somehow fear makes you all taste a lot better. You go kind of salty, and -"

"That's all I really want to know," Etoh interrupted. If not for the aura-spell taking up his concentration, he'd have been dealing with unpleasant mental images. They'd probably come later, the next time he lay awake in the wee hours of the morning.

"Well, that's when he cast the spell. It was…there was this bright white light that exploded through us, and then this fog came down over us….like…like mist. In our heads, sort of. Like our brains turned to jelly."

"Your grasp of our language seems to be breaking up," Wood observed dryly, having gone back to looming over the goblin and trying to look menacing. 

"And I'm sure you could come up with a sonnet about it! You've just got literary genius written all over you!" The goblin hadn't missed an opportunity to get an insult in, but it suddenly seemed especially thin-skinned.

"Oh, Falis forbid you should insult an illiterate thief's writing skills. Keep telling your damn story." Wood dead-panned. 

"Can't even read, huh? Hell, even I can do that, and I'm -"

"Story! Now, damn it! We're the guys with the weapons."

"Well, it's hard to describe," the goblin relented, now drawing it's shaggy eyebrows together in concentration. " I…look, let me just jump ahead a little and tell you what I know. I'll explain how I know it later. What he used was a spell bomb-"

"Those have been outlawed," Slayn said, looking grim. "I suppose someone who uses magic as sloppily as he does wouldn't care about the dangers, though. The more I hear, the more I think he was kicked out of the academy."

"Oh, he was. So, this spell-bomb-"

"Hey, hey! The stupid layman wants to know what a spell-bomb is," Woodchuck waved a hand between the two. "We can't all be magic geniuses."

Slayn opened his mouth, but was surprised to see the goblin beat him to it.

"A spell bomb is a pre-prepared spell. A mage will do most of the casting work ahead of time, binding the magic around an object to hold it in place. Then when he's ready, he tosses the object down, and says the last word. They're off-limits because unfinished magic that can't dissipate gets unstable. Pressure starts building up, so that when the spell is cast, there's always some kind of explosion. Whether or not it kills anyone depends how long the mage has been waiting around to use it. It's not really hard, just dangerous. I personally can't believe he was using that kind of stuff. Hell, I'm a goblin, _and_ I can do magic, and I know better than to try something like that."

"A good observation. You're…surprisingly well educated," Slayn complimented.

"Hey, not like humans have a monopoly on academics," the goblin preened. Then it thought for a moment, and sagged. "Well, actually, you do. I don't exactly know what I know based on years of study, or anything." 

"Hey. Keep up the story. Um. Please," Etoh put in. He was trying to be authoritative, but couldn't stop himself from slapping a "please" on the end, just like he couldn't stop himself from calling a stranger "ma'am," even if she was trying to pull him into a brothel. The aura-spell was beginning to hurt, and he could feel tears running down his cheeks. And he was tired. The goblins-eating-humans-humans-eating-deer kept circling around in his head and coming to no conclusion. He just wanted to sleep on it. 

"The spell-bomb was a sleep spell…I guess he was trying to take us all out the fast and sloppy way, rather than thin out the effects over the band…hell, he might not even know how to cast sleep on more than one person, other than the obvious illegal method. While we were out, he cast a spell over our minds to make us go and search for this stone-"

"Like the one you mentioned earlier? You talked about a stone when you were interrogating us," Etoh remembered.

"Yes, yes, like the one I mentioned earlier," the goblin rolled it's eyes heavenward. "I thought that was a given. This would go a lot faster if you'd all stop interrupting me."

"Sorry." Etoh was, he realized a second later, the only one to apologize.

"See, apparently there are rumors tossed around in this area…just sort of back-country bar room talk…that the village of Hamel has some kind of magic stone hidden somewhere. Now, understanding humans the way I've come to, if someone told me about that now, I'd think it was just a ploy to try and draw merchants. You know….our village has the fountain of youth, our village has the Goddess Marfa living in the well, our village has bottomless beer barrel. Bullshit, in other words. But this thing wasn't. Apparently, it's some kind of wishing stone - anyone who holds it has his dreams come true, and all that. No one in Hamel actually believes in it, they just like to use the story when they get into a tall-tale pissing-contest in other villages. Unfortunately, that just leaves morons like Devin to chase after it. He'd been planning to look it up with a location spell, but those things just slip right off it, so instead, he decided to come and abuse us. He cast a spell on us, while the whole tribe was asleep, to make us want the stone, desperately - we cared about that thing more than our own lives. And I'm sure you can guess what happened after that. Village raiding, house burning. The whole bit. We'd never have done it if not for that spell, let me tell you."

The last sentence was not quite, but almost a lie. Etoh caught the flicker.

"Never?" he asked, in what he hoped to be a suspicious, vaguely threatening tone (it wasn't). 

"Okay, maybe not never…maybe we would have done it some other time, I don't know. But we hadn't done it before!" The flicker disappeared, and the aura smoothed back into honesty, shining forth from the goblin in all it's hairy, gnarled, misshapen beauty. "Anyway, it wouldn't have happened if he hadn't cast that damn spell on us. I mean, what did he expect, a quiet little search? We're goblins. We tear things up."

"Wouldn't it have been a lot quieter to look for the stone himself? Why'd he even bother with you guys?" Wood pointed out.

"I'm sorry, weren't you listening when I said goblins can smell magic?! He used us like a pack of hunting dogs to sniff out the stone. He thought that if he had a spell like that controlling us, we'd be too brain-washed to get out of control."

"Probably stole the spell from the library," Slayn said, his soft voice not hiding a bitter undertone. "Mind control of that kind is off-limits to students. Probably didn't even properly research it." Although Etoh was trying not to look at either of his two companions with the aura-spell on, he could see Slayn's colors out of the corner of his eye. There was a dark angry red bubbling up from underneath the blue and silver. 

"Did you get it?" Wood asked.

The goblin scowled, and slammed its tied hands against its legs in sudden frustration. "No! That's the fucking thing of it….the smell is so strong it fills up the entire village. And goblins have better noses than humans, but we're not hunting dogs. Nobody could pin-point it. Hell, we can't even pin-point it now that Devin's got it."

"Devin's got it?!" Etoh exclaimed, but Slayn drowned him out.

"I knew it! I knew he'd tapped into some kind of illegal power source! How else could such a sloppy spell-caster acquire that much power?!" He was almost yelling, pale face rigid with anger. Slayn was not one to condemn people, however stupid or malicious their actions were. He had forgiven the "Welcome to the village" prank of a pig in his bedroom, and he'd forgiven constant cracks about his lack of a wife. In short, Etoh had never seen Slayn this angry before. But then, this was magic, and magic was his life. And he took it very, very seriously.

"So hey," the goblin cut off its story, looking far too happy. "I imagine that means we are on the same side, right? You hate Devin, I hate Devin. It all works out."

"Ye-" Slayn began, for once the impulsive one.

"No." Woodchuck cut him off.

"You don't understand! That man is a menace! The way he misuses magic-"

"No. We're not agreeing to anything," Wood repeated firmly. He looked pointedly at the goblin. "We still haven't heard the whole story. I wanna know why you can talk, and what this so-called magic stone does. Then we can talk about sides. Oh, and Etoh? You've got that spell thing running, right? This isn't bullshit?"

"No. It's true." It was strange to believe, but it was true. Then again, they had been attacked by trees, and had fought off stone gargoyles, all while on the way to see a sage about a very mysterious witch. Anything was possible. Etoh had been concentrating especially hard on the spell, because it was much easier than trying to figure out the situation. They had to have some side, but neither was looking very palatable at the moment, and neither would completely jibe with his Falis priest morality. Knowing him, he would probably sit back and watch the decision being made over his head, anyway.

"So…somehow, Devin found this stone , and it what, gave him more power?" Slayn took control of the questioning again. 

"That's…what I'm guessing. We were only under his control for that first night. When daylight came, we all scattered. And he must have found it during the day somehow, because he came wandering back in the afternoon when we were lazing around. We mostly sleep during the day, you know."

"Fascinating, " Slayn put in impatiently, motioning with one hand for the goblin to keep talking.

"He waved the stone around, telling us that he'd found it, and we were free to go on our merry way. Like we'd do that with the spell he cast still on us. We all jumped at him, and he showed he had at least has half a brain in his head, because he had that sleep spell bomb waiting for us again."

"But he never took off the original spell? Clearly it was still in effect when we encountered you."

"I don't think he really knows how. He never managed it with the others, and he botched it with me. Later, that's later in the story. So, we all woke up, and it was nightfall. And since that damn spell was still in effect, we all went rushing down to the village to try and get it. I know, it was stupid of us not to knock him down right away and search him for it…he's probably got it on him, but we were going by smell again. That second time, he used his new souped-up maaaagic powers," the goblin wiggled it's fingers dramatically, "to drive us away. He made a big show out of it. All the villagers were cheering for him. I don't think he'd planned that scenario when he first put the spell on us, but it sure worked out in his favor. For a couple of weeks, he got to be the big-shot hero of the village."

"So…" Now Slayn was wringing his cloak in white-knuckled hands, almost as if he was picturing someone's throat beneath them, "He meddled in dangerous magic, he pried into power that he had no right to, and he gambled on the safety of the entire village in order to make himself look good?"

"Yeah, that just about sums it up," said the goblin flippantly. "Hey, that vein on your forehead is really starting to swell."

"Can we just get through the rest?" Etoh asked, feeling a little desperate. Tough as he tried to be, the constant use of the aura spell had turned into a pounding head-ache.

"There isn't much left to tell -"

"Except for the part about you talking and casting spells," said Wood.

"I was _getting_ to that. It happened when I finally managed to get close to him one night. I mean, I'm not the leader for nothing, you know. I knocked him over and started clawing at him. I figure that the stone must be on him, because, up close like that, I could smell it underneath his clothing. It was driving me crazy." 

The goblin paused, looking suddenly thoughtful.

"This is starting to sound like some kind of sex story, isn't it?"

"You really know a lot about human thought, don't you?" Wood quipped. "Keep talking, and we'll try not to snicker."

"Well, we scuffled for awhile, and he decided that enough was enough. Maybe he would have taken the spell off if he'd understood how to, but I think what he did to me was intended to be another mind control spell. Only he was casting it very quickly. He just sort of slapped a hand on my face, and mumbled some words. And what happened next…nearest I can figure, he put a bunch of his memories in my head. Hell, not just memories. Thoughts, ideas, personality. The works. Near as I can figure, he was trying to use his mind to overpower mine, kind of like possessing me. Only he couldn't quite manage, so he just wound up…sort of…linking himself up to me. So that I know human language, I can think like him-"

"You do sort of act like him," Etoh said absently. The goblin glared, and a frustrated red rippled across it's aura.

"Yeah, I do, don't I?" It said bitterly. "I can't even remember how I used to be before, but I'm damn sure my personality was better than this!" It banged its fists against its legs again. 

"Well, not exactly like him…you're a lot more reasonable," Etoh soothed, or attempted to. No sense in upsetting a captive that was rapidly turning into an ally. And there was still no hint of a lie.

"I suppose," it grumbled. "I'm kind of a mish-mash. I've still got…goblin impulses, I guess, but it's all colored with human thought. And most of it is _his_ thought. God, I hate him! You guys just had to talk to the little prick, but he's in my head all day, every day."

"Is this…" Slayn began, "where you got your knowledge of magic? You use it like an amateur, but you…well, you have magic knowledge. Which is more than most humans have."

"Yep. It's all out of Devin's head, which is why I use it so damn sloppy. All the stone really gave him was more magic knowledge, not refined technique."

"Are you connected with him in any way right now? Or was it just a one time thing?" 

"One time thing. I haven't a clue what he's thinking about now, although from what I know about his personality, I can hazard a guess." The goblin curled it's fingers and thumb together and made an odd up-down jerking motion that left Etoh mystified. His two companions must have gotten it, because they exchange quick, embarrassed glances, but neither saw fit to clue him in. He made a note to ask Parn about it later.

"I woulda thought that you were connected up to Devin, though," Wood was saying. "How else did you know we were headed out to attack you? Or do you guys just hang out invisible on hill-tops all the time?" 

"Oh, of course, the goblin leader can't just be observant and crafty, oh nooo, it's all some mental connection with humans! Ha! Look, you guys are a little stealthier than Devin, but you've got nothing on species that live in the forest all the time. My scouts had their eyes on you from the moment you left the village - even with all the weaving around you did. Good try there, thief." 

"Well, at least I made an effort," Wood muttered scowling. "Not like your precious trap wound up working that well."

"I thought it was a damn good trap. And that takes us up to where we are now, I should think. I got this creep's thoughts and memories running around in my head, I've got a band of relatives that wants to raid the village and take a stupid piece of rock - or at least, I did. I guess that problem's solved." It stopped to give Slayn a nod, and this time there was no mistaking the gratitude on it's face. "I don't know where I'm going from here. Of course, I am tied up by three morons…" It scowled again. "I suppose the future is up to you guys. You're the ones with the rope, after all."

"You know - I could probably work to put you back the way you were," Slayn offered hesitantly. "I mean, this is venturing into new ground, magically speaking, but I could try to do something…."

"Don't!" The goblin snapped, then recovered itself. "Don't. I mean, it's not like your kind is better than us…or anything,….but, I mean….aw hell, I don't know. I don't know what to make of all this. I just know that it's easier to think this way, and I'm not giving that up." 

"In that case, " Slayn continued. "I think the three of us are going to have a bit of a conference, as to the best way of dealing with this situation. If what you've told us is true -" He looked at Etoh for confirmation. Etoh nodded. "- well, that changes the situation significantly."

"So like I said in the first place, we promise not to kill you," Woodchuck summed up, before letting Slayn pull him and Etoh a few paces aside, where they could whisper mostly out of earshot. Etoh dropped the aura spell with some relief, and began wiping the tears out of his aching eyes. 

"I guess the question of the night is, now what?" 

"Well, obviously Devin needs to be stopped," Slayn said firmly. People sometimes forgot that the mild-tempered mage was capable of taking a stand, but when he did, he was as immovable as his dwarven friend. 

"I suppose…that would be in our best interest," Wood sighed. "I don't think we'll be able to get the others away from him without a fight, anyway. So, scratch what I just said. The question of the night is, how? And do we do it by teaming up with it?" He motioned back at the goblin, who sat staring defiantly straight ahead, as though to show them how very little it cared if they talked about it. 

"First of all, I'm thinking…" Slayn said, "That I might have some idea what this magic stone is. And if I'm right, Devin should be carrying it on his person."

"What is it?"

"Have either of you ever heard of the lost treasures of Kastuul?"

"I have," Etoh began, but Woodchuck interrupted him, looking suddenly pale.

"You mean we're dealing with _those_ things?! Geez, I don't want to get near someone using one of those things." 

"Wood, is there anything you _haven't_ heard of?" Etoh asked, thinking that the thief seemed to have replaced a formal education with knowledge of every rumor, legend and bit of folklore to grace the island. Like a gossip encyclopedia.

Wood ignored Etoh and rushed on nervously. " Little magic booby-traps scattered all over the island, that's what they are. They look ordinary treasure, but you pick one up, and next thing you know you're invisible or possessed by demons or some shit like that. There are stories all over the guild about those. We thieves avoid that stuff like the plague, and if that's what's involved, I'm not getting within fifty feet of that sorcerer-" 

"Let's not panic quite yet," said Slayn, raising a hand. "Most likely it's not a treasure designed to harm, judging by it's affects on Devin-"

"Yeah, right, it's probably just biding it's time to suck his soul out, or-"

"Perhaps _I_ should explain the details here," Slayn asserted.

"Right. They came out of Kastuul during it's destruction, right?" Etoh asked helpfully. He was pretty certain everyone present knew the details, but he always liked to give Slayn some "teaching time".

"Right. When the barbarians overran Kastuul, they carried out a lot of the treasure that they found there, and since the kingdom thrived on sorcery, most of it was enchanted in some way or another. Not powerful enchantments, like the Scepter of Domination, but little things that the magicians used for their convenience. Invisibility cloaks, cauldrons of plenty, things like that. But the barbarians didn't understand how to use them, and after a few accidents, they decided that it was all cursed, and abandoned it. Since then, the treasures have been scattered across the island. The magic school has sent people out to try and gather them back, but no one's turned up much, yet. I suspect a number of them are held by people a little less suspicious than the barbarian tribes, but it doesn't really matter. There's not a huge amount of power stored in them, anyway. We mostly hope to study them in order to understand the secrets that went down with Kastuul."

"You're leaving out the rings that turn people into dogs, or make them explode," Wood put in.

"Well yes, there are a few treasures that were booby-trapped," Slayn admitted. "When the mages saw the barbarians at their gates, a few of them made items like that in hopes of having some little revenge if the kingdom was overthrown. Petty, but perfectly understandable. There aren't very many of the nasty ones left now. We've been working particularly hard at collecting the treasures that were liable to hurt someone - and for some reason, people are a lot more willing to give those up."

"Now see, this is why thieves don't mess around with magic. It never turns out right. There's always some sort of horrible catch."

"That depends on your motivations," said Slayn wryly. "For example, in the Forest of Never Return-"

"Oh, shut up."

"So, let's all think of a plan, shall we?" said Etoh, trying to sound more cheerful than he felt. "Are we going to team up with our…" he searched for a word appropriate for the goblin. Captive was too harsh, but friend wasn't accurate at all. "..acquaintance over there?"

"Well, given what it's told us about the situation…and the fact that it's been truthful about most everything up until this point…" Slayn cast another questioning look at Etoh. Etoh nodded again, glad to be doing something productive. "I'm thinking that including it in our plans would be the best option. Brining the goblin leader in tied up like a captive would be the best way to get close to Devin without him expecting anything."

"But what if it made a jump for the stone as soon as it got close…? No, wait, it doesn't know where the stone is right now. Otherwise it'd probably have it by now," Etoh mused, answering his own question.

"Are you sure that Devin is bound to be wearing it?" Woodchuck asked.

"Or holding it, or carrying it somewhere on his person," Slayn. "The treasure I'm thinking of is called the Fallen Star. It grants whomever holds it a single wish, but only one wish at a time. And once the stone passes out of someone's possession, the spell is over, the wish is reversed. What I think would be best is if a few of us create some kind of distraction, while someone slips in and takes the stone off of Devin. It doesn't really matter which of us grabs the stone…so long as that person happens to be good at rooting around in other people's pockets-"

"Don't you dare look at me like that, Slayn," Wood growled. "Anything coming out of Kastuul scares me to death. You couldn't pay me to-"

"All the better. That way you wouldn't be tempted to use it. And I don't mean that in an insulting way. The Fallen Star is the kind of treasure that's hard to resist," Slayn said.

"And supposing that I fall under it's evil spell and run off to use it for my own nefarious purposes?" Wood argued, forgetting that he'd just claimed it terrified him.

"I'm confident that at least your 'nefarious purposes' would be less dangerous than what Devin is doing. Besides," and here Slayn suddenly smiled in a manner too innocent to be sincere, even for Slayn, "we all trust you." Etoh remembered using the exact same tactic earlier that evening, and decided that he and the mage definitely thought too much alike.

"Oh, fine!" Wood snapped, grimacing. "But I'm wearin' gloves before I snag that thing. God damn, I hate when you all pull that emotional friendship nonsense on me." 

"Thank you," Slayn cut him off, face settling back into his usual serious look. "That'll help the situation considerably. What we need now is a distraction that will send most of the villagers away, so we don't have to face a mob like last time. I can handle that. I'm thinking that their odd behavior probably has something to do with Devin's new magic - either it's a spell he cast, or some side effect of the stone's power. Either way, I'm fairly sure that taking the stone will snap them out of it."

"And if not?"

"Then whoever is holding the Fallen Star uses it to hold the crowd off until we make a peaceful exit. Then we put it in a bag so no one can touch it, and I turn it over to King Fahn's court wizard when we get back to Valis." 

"But are you sure it's the Fallen Star that he's using?" Etoh asked. "What if it's something else? Something that he can use from a distance?" 

"Then I cast the mute spell. What I'm planning should have the crowd cleared away by then, so the only danger will be to Devin and myself. If we take his magic, we can make him talk, and use him as a hostage if the villagers come back."

"Okay…I guess that covers things…" Etoh said slowly.

"Oh no, it doesn't come close to covering everything that could happen," said Slayn, smiling. "But we can't plan for absolutely everything. And things might turn in our favor. By tomorrow, the others should start to wake up, and they can lend us a hand. This is about the best we can do…..right now…." Slayn stopped clap a hand over a yawn. 

"Right," Etoh said, wishing he felt an eensy bit more confident.

"It'll be alright. We have," Slayn paused dramtically. "A plan."

"We had a plan last time," Woodchuck felt the need to point out.

"Yes, but now we have," Slayn looked vaguely irritated, but would have his dramatic pause anyway, "a better plan."

"Right, then. Let's explain things to the goblin, and -"

"Save it," the goblin called up to them suddenly. "In case you're interested, goblins have much better hearing than humans. I didn't _mean_ to eavesdrop," it held it's head up almost primly, "but I couldn't really help it." It seemed to be expecting a fight, but it had, in fact, saved time. And no one had much energy left to argue.

"Okay then," Etoh said. "I guess we're all agreed…." He trailed off, struck by a sudden thought. "Say, do you have a name? Do goblins have names?"

"Oh, now you bother to ask!" the goblin scowled. "Yeah, we have names. We have to have some way to tell each other apart. I'm -" And the goblin made a deep noise in it's throat, somewhere between a growl and grunt.

"Ghrol…? Vgrol….?"

The goblin sighed.

"Try V'gol," it said, breaking the name into two syllables, and carefully forming human sounds.

"Viii-gool?" 

"Good enough. Hey, sorcerer. I just thought of something. When is my magic going to come back? It could be mighty useful tomorrow."

"Sorry, but the mute spell that I cast lasts for over a day. You'll mostly be acting as our hostage, anyway. I'll handle the magic."

"One last thing," Slayn said, as he stretched himself out and wrapped his cloak around himself. "I'd rather not see any killing tomorrow, if we can help it. The villagers are probably under Devin's control, and not responsible for their actions. And practically speaking, we'll be a lot more likely to retrieve our friends and get out alive tomorrow if we don't give the townspeople reason to hate us."

"That means no eating people, either," Wood said pointedly, as he bound up the goblin's feet, securing it for the night.

"Oh, for Gods sake, I don't even want to eat people anymore. I wouldn't touch one if you fried it up and served it on a platter," V'gol protested. "Even one of the young ones -"

"Let's stop talking about this and get some sleep!" said Etoh desperately. The headache was getting worse, and even the light from the stars seemed too bright.

"Wait, we can't just go to sleep with a hostage here. Someone's gotta -" Woodchuck was interrupted as Slayn thrust an irritable hand towards the goblin and mumbled a few words.

"Hey, what are you - ?" Then V'gol was limp on the ground, snoring softly.

"There. It'll sleep until morning. I suggest you do the same." 

"Oh. Okay, that'll do."

Etoh felt as though he'd never get to sleep. The starlight stung his eyes, so he couldn't even turn to constellations for peace, and there was a nervous churning in the pit of his stomach. Falis only knew what could happen the next day. He had to sleep that night, but he'd never manage at this rate. He was so preoccupied with the idea that he barely noticed when he did drop off, slipping easily into dark, dreamless waters. 


	4. Chapter 4

The morning prayer to Falis was a strict and sacred ritual kept by his priests. The believer greeted the rising sun on both knees, arms stretched out to receive the gift of a new day. It was meant to be performed in absolute stillness. The priest - mind focused on the glory of his god, mouthing but not giving breath to chants of thanks - would drink in the dawn hush and draw strength that would last the entire day. It only took a moment to refill the deep well of patience that every priest found himself drawing from repeatedly. Parn liked to say that Etoh had patience enough to begin with, but he had always felt that he really needed this time before the day. Before he ever started to pester the god with personal requests (like a sick mother), Etoh could, for this one moment before the village woke behind him, enjoy peace.

It was a fair bet that the morning prayers were not meant to be offered while a bound, captive goblin snored behind him. It was definitely the loudest Etoh had ever heard. He'd already learned to deal with Ghim, who made enough of a racket that Deedlit said they didn't really need to keep a night watch, any wandering creature would be too frightened to come near. But Ghim was soft and gentle music compared to the goblin, who rattled heavily on each in-out breath. 

This, of course, could be born. The "dawn hush" was never as quiet as it was meant to be, and even in the stone walls of monastery he had heard the crickets winding down their night concert, and birds tuning up for day. Etoh counted his blessings that his other two companions were quiet sleepers. Slayn and Woodchuck had surprisingly similar sleeping habits - both stretching themselves out by the fire and laying so still that it was hard to tell when they actually dropped off. The only difference was that Slayn didn't start awake and grab for a weapon when someone stepped near him, then glare at the offender and roll over, muttering, "Don't _do_ that to me." It was a good thing that Wood could be woken by calling from a distance, because his one morning mood seemed to be twitchy. Etoh supposed, charitably, that if he'd spent enough nights sleeping by the road-side, he'd probably be paranoid, too.

Etoh settled himself, and murmured determinedly. He'd managed his morning prayers, outside, in the snow, during the nasty two-week stretch that he'd been down with the flu. Absolutely nothing was going to stop him from this most important ritual. He didn't exactly get the rush of peace and healing wind that he was hoping for, but that was another part of faith that seemed to come mostly out of books. Other clerics claimed to get a direct hand on the shoulder and bright lights around their heads, but these were the types who were forever rushing into classrooms with loaves of bread that, if one squinted at them, sort resembled a misshapen face of the goddess Marfa. Etoh was not so uncharitable as to call these fellows liars, but he did believe that they might just possibly be mistaken. In his experience, and that of classmates that he loved and trusted, Falis did not care for fancy shows. Falis was a quiet whisper in a storm of trouble, and that was all Etoh needed to believe. And with that, he could face the day.

He whirled around to his companions. Slayn was looking much better than he had the night before, and actually appeared to be sleeping, as opposed to lying unconscious from exhaustion. He seemed healthy and properly recharged. Etoh considered his options, and decided. The sooner they got this plan out of the way, the sooner everyone could walk away happy. May as well start now. They couldn't exactly fault him for being eager - after all, the sun was up. That meant that everyone else should be as well.

"Hey, guys. Maybe we should get going," he shouted towards the group through cupped hands. Slayn stirred and muttered. Wood snapped open both eyes and ran quick glances between the goblin, Slayn, and Etoh before relaxing again. The goblin snored. 

"It's not time already, is it?" Woodchuck was making no move to get up, arms still folded comfortably beneath his head.

"It may as well be time. I don't see any need to wait. We've got our plan settled." Etoh moved to give Slayn a gentle shake on the shoulder. 

"You could at least wait awhile before getting him up," Wood argued. "I thought we were letting him rest up from last night."

"No, I'm quite refreshed," came Slayn's business-like reply, again never seeming to have the slightest grogginess or confusion upon waking up. It was as though he spent the whole night organizing his thoughts, rather than wasting his time with dreaming, so that he'd be ready for action from the moment his eyes opened. He sat up, and began shaking the dew off his cloak. Woodchuck followed suit, rubbing his eyes.

"Well, Falis forbid heroes should ever start a plan at any time other than the break of day. 'Cause it'd just be too damn immoral to wait until the sun's all the way up, wouldn't it? Sleeping in is for those evil Marmo slackers - " Wood muttered quiet tirades like this every morning, and didn't seem genuinely irritated, but Etoh interrupted him anway.

"Can you get the goblin up? I…well, I don't want to touch it." Etoh wrinkled his nose. It wasn't that it was disgusting (which it was), but Etoh wasn't sure how it would react when woken suddenly. He had a pretty realistic picture of his own naiveté, and figured he was exactly the wrong person to get close to the bound captive. 

"Right, right, I'll just go put myself in danger. That always wakes me up in the morning." Wood strolled over to the sleeping goblin. Its wrists and ankles were still bound, but it had pulled it's flashy red cape around it like a blanket. He regarded it carefully for a moment, then kicked it in the side. The goblin snarled and rolled over to glare at him.

"Gee, I had the most horrible dream that there were human thoughts running through my head, and I got captured by two skinny eunuchs and a sleazy guy. But I guess it wasn't a dream, was it?" 

"Falis priests aren't –" Etoh began. 

"Don't bother," Wood interrupted him. He reached down and hauled the goblin to its feet. It groaned in protest, and stood, unsteadily, blinking in the sunlight. "C'mon, up. We're heading out." 

"Do I get to eat?" the goblin asked. Etoh added "pout" to his list of facial expressions that goblins weren't supposed to have. He gave up, and hauled out the dried meat jerky in one of his pouches. They'd had to leave their packs in town, since they'd headed out (been practically run out, if Etoh was honest) in a hurry, and all that was left were two sad-looking pieces. He handed them to his two companions and hoped to ignore his growling stomach. Charity first, priests eat last. 

"We left most of our provisions back in the village, since we got sent out here unexpectedly to deal with the goblin problem," Wood said, glaring at the goblin meaningfully.

"Oh, so sorry about that. It's not like I had horrible spells cast on me or anything-"

"No, no, it's quite all right. After all, we did come out here for fun, it's not like our friends were held hostage-"

"This isn't helping," Slayn said, his mouth pressed into a thin line. "It's not going to help. However, I suspect you two are going to carry on all day, aren't you?" He fixed them with a stern glare, the kind that would pin a terrified apprentice against the wall. Slayn had not yet taught apprentices, but Etoh suspected that such techniques were taught at the academy. Every wizard he'd met so far could do it. 

Wood and the goblin looked at each other, suddenly comrades in the face of clearly unjustified criticism.

"Kind of serious, isn't he? Really school-teacherish." 

"You have no idea. I don't trust that man anywhere near me with a ruler."

"Can I eat, now?"

"Captives don't get to eat."

"I'll collapse with hunger," the goblin threatened, sinking to its knees.

"Oh, fine." Wood ripped a piece off of his own jerky, and jammed it into the goblin's tied hands. 

Etoh watched them distractedly, upending the empty jerky pouch onto his palm and wondering if the little shower of crumbs that fell out was really worth it. His stomach growled again, and he decided it was. It was okay, though. He figured Falis would provide, eventually.

"Or you'll actually lose some weight, pudgy Etoh," said the voice in his head. Etoh kept the serene smile frozen on his face, and pictured sucker-punching Jardin, which was _not_ a proper way to handle things, but the day had started well, and he wasn't going to have it ruined. He was surprised to realize that the face he imagined hitting was hazy and dim – the bully had left a vivid enough impression on him to become a mental voice, but he couldn't even get a clear picture of what he'd looked like. That wasn't how it had been before. He'd definitely been able to remember before; he'd had some very detailed nightmares. Maybe accomplishing a few things on his own, away from Parn, really was going to make Jardin fade away. Permanently.

"Ooooo, no, little Etoh, I'm not going anywhere. I have to hang around just in case you ever forget what a complete cock-up you are," sneered the voice, but it somehow sounded a little less sure of itself. 

"Say what you want," Etoh whispered back. He would ignore him, and ignore him, as long as it took, and-

"Etoh? I don't mean to disturb you, but…" 

Etoh started to find Slayn tapping him on the shoulder. Wood was cutting the bonds on the goblin's ankles and feet. Slayn had picked up his staff. 

"We're going," Slayn announced.

There was, unfortunately, nothing left to do that would put off the little journey any longer. They got up. They went.

They weren't walking for long before the goblin started to fall behind. Wood, who was leading the goblin by its tied wrists, called up to them.

"Hey, guys. I never thought I'd be telling you two to slow the pace, but this thing can't walk right, or something."

"It's the sun!" V'gol said as they drew close. "Goblins aren't used to walking around in daylight. We get a lot weaker and it blinds the shit out of us."

"Interesting phenomenon," Slayn murmured. "Sort of a reversal of the Gawain principle of solar-based strength-"

"It's not interesting, it fucking hurts!" V'gol snapped, hold its hands in front of its eyes. "Look, we're not built for day-light. That's way we spent all our time in caves. Unless one of you all wants to carry me, this is as fast as we go."

"Go on and walk at your own pace," Wood said, waving them on. "I'll drag it along."

"Hey, hey…don't leave me behind with him! He's a dangerous psychopath!" the goblin protested as the sorcerer and priest began to walk ahead.

"We're not leaving you alone. We won't even be out of sight," Slayn called back over his shoulder.

"And look who's talking about being a dangerous psychopath…I dare you to name one thing I've done to you that's worse than what you've done to us."

"This _rope_ is too _tight_. You can't expect me to walk like this. I never tied you this tightly."

"We'll leave them to entertain each other," said Slayn, smiling slightly and increasing his pace. "It may not be evil, but I still could use a break from the sound of that thing's voice."

"Kind of mean to leave Wood to deal with it," Etoh ventured. Behind them, he could still hear the voices, although they were fading slowly into a buzz. 

"Okay, maybe not a psychopath….but a jerk, definitely a jerk!"

"Yeah, I can live with that…."

And then they were unintelligible.

"I daresay Wood is enjoying himself. Besides, I wanted to talk out of his ear-shot."

"The goblin can hear."

"The goblin is distracted." 

"Why out of his earshot, then?" Etoh was a little uncomfortable with the idea of talking behind (so to speak) a comrade's back.

"Fine-tuning the plan," Slayn explained. "You can perform sleep spells like mages, right? I want you to be ready with one if Wood does take the Fallen Star and run with it."

"Do you really think he'd do that?" 

"I think any of us are capable of doing that. The Fallen Star is one of the more troublesome artifacts from Kastuul, and its pull is very strong. It doesn't exactly draw people to it, but people who see it can't help wanting it. People who hold it have trouble putting it down. It's not that I distrust Wood in particular – honestly - it's just that he's the one who's going to handle it, if all goes according to plan. So I want you to watch him. And for that matter, watch yourself if it winds up in your hands. No offense. I'll do the same when I'm carrying it." Slayn had kept his usual blank expression, but turned to Etoh at the last sentence to smile, and show that there was truly no offense meant. 

"Wouldn't this be on the more dangerous list of artifacts? I'm surprised the academy hasn't tracked it down yet." 

"It's like the goblin said, spells slip right off it. And it's not as flashy as one might think. The stone doesn't really affect much more than the wisher, and the people close to them. You couldn't use it to, say, sink the island below the sea. And even if someone wishes for power, most people are willing to stop at a little. Deep down, everyone thinks they want to rule the world, but when that power is actually within reach, suddenly King of Lodoss sounds like an intimidating job. That's why a man like Devin is still living in a tiny village, and not leading the Marmo forces. All he really wanted was to be the top man in his village and show everyone up. I think most people are content with little things like that."

"So...your thinking is most people are petty at heart?"

"I think most just want to be happy," Slayn amended, "and it doesn't take much to fulfill that. I can't say what I'd do if I had the Fallen Star in my hands. I'd like to believe that I'd wish for the knowledge lost in Kastuul, so I could pass it down to future generations. But even that's somehow frightening. I'd probably wind up with just an interesting book and a cup of tea." 

"Yeah…" Etoh agreed. That was close to his ideal picture of people as well. Easily satisfied, and basically good at heart. It was nice to notice that neither of them had mentioned the possibility of the stone being used to, say, wish someone dead. Most people thought about, some even meant it, but it would be low priority if a person could be magically granted their heart's desire.

"If I had it, I'd probably…." Etoh began, than trailed off. Probably what? Probably wish for island-wide peace and harmony? The Fallen Star didn't work that way. Wish for the power to heal all ills? That would be nice…But it would still only do him so much good. If he had all powerful healing ablilities, then he'd probably become famous for them. People would start lining up outside his door, and he'd have to start judging cases based on need, and turning people away. He'd still have to let people die, because he'd only be able to save so many in one day, no matter what. Then people would start to hate him. And wars would be nightmarish – wounded groaning all over the battlefield, one person dying for each that he healed. It was bad enough with his own limited abilities, but with the burden of power on his shoulders – Etoh didn't even want to consider it. He wondered if he'd come close to understanding how kings felt. Still, he wondered if it wasn't selfish to think that way. Someone had to bear the load of responsibility, and all the grief that came with it. If it was ever him (laughable, Jardin muttered), he hoped that he could step up to it. 

"Probably what?" Slayn asked, and Etoh shook out of his reverie, remembering that he'd left a sentence unfinished.

"Probably just wish for something small. Something that would help people, but in a small way. I don't know what, exactly."

That seemed to be it for the conversation for a long while. Slayn retreated into his own thoughts, and Etoh simply tried to admire the scenery around him, the way Deedlit always did. They crossed up and down the hills back towards the village, sweating in the growing heat. Etoh winced at the possibility at another long day under a burning sun, although the hike yesterday now seemed like ages ago. They were getting close to the village when Slayn abruptly spoke again.

"I know of one thing that I'd like…but the Fallen Star wouldn't grant it."

"What?" Etoh picked up the conversation as though there had never been a pause. It seemed like Slayn had probably worked to whatever he was going to say next.

"Leylia. Well, not Leylia herself," Slayn corrected quickly, looking a little uncomfortable. "I mean..it's Ghim's quest. He sees it as his responsibility, and his alone. I think he'd even rather save her without my help, rather than putting me in danger. But I've seen what Karla can do, and Ghim facing her alone would be no contest. I worry about it. If I could somehow deliver her safely to him…but that's beyond anything that the Fallen Star could grant." 

"Don't worry, we'll help, too. We'll all help, when the time comes," said Etoh.

"That I don't doubt. What I do doubt is whether Ghim will let us help. He might lose patience with the group – we're not all exactly dedicated warriors, and we get side-tracked pretty easily."

"I will admit to that…" Etoh sighed, thinking of how quickly the party had been distracted and seperated in the dwarven tunnels. "But we can manage some great things when we work together." After all, they'd all come together again and managed to kill a dragon between them – not that he'd played a huge role in that. In fact, he hadn't been much help at all, he thought a little glumly.

"It's not just that. Ghim is strong-willed and independent. It's not just that he doesn't want the rest of us hurt, although that's part of it. This is his quest. And when he thinks that the time is right to challenge Karla, I wouldn't put it past him to leave us all behind." Slayn look down at the ground, forehead creased in a frown. "I just hope that I can convince him to let me help him. Even if it's just the two of us."

"We'll all help." Etoh said emphatically. He figured he could probably speak for the whole group. Parn wouldn't hesitate, and Etoh and Deedlit would both follow Parn. Woodchuck he had no idea about, but the thief had stuck with them so far. Why not a little farther?

"I know. It's just been weighing on my mind lately. After all, Karla is what this whole trip is all about. And I must admit, it's not just because Ghim is my friend. I keep thinking about that poor girl, Leylia. Buried inside her own body. I start wondering what kind of person she was before Karla took her, and how she'll manage to pick up her life again afterwards." Slayn sighed again. "I'm sorry, I'm talking too much," he added, as if such a thing was even possible. Too much from Slayn was like normal conversation from other people. No wonder he and Ghim got along well. "It's just that I've been dreaming about her lately – Leylia, not Karla. It's so strange. I've never even met her, but I dream that she's calling to me."

"Well, of course you want to help her. I want to help her, and I'm not as close to Ghim as you are." Etoh tried to be reassuring, although he didn't quite feel it. Time to change the subject. 

"This is going to sound silly, but I can't really imagine you dreaming. I always…well, I always pictured you spending all night organizing things in your mind. You know, plans and such." 

Slayn chuckled, a rare sound. 

"I suppose I seem a little too boring for dreams. No imagination, right?"

"Oh, no, no!" Etoh protested. "It's just that you always seem so….together. You always know where you are, you always know what to do. You've always got a plan. That's all."

"I don't always…." Slayn started to protest, then trailed off, smiling. "I suppose I just think about things like that. I think a lot, Etoh. It's like a hobby. Some people weave or paint, or plant gardens. I think. Sometimes its philosophy and magic theory, and all those things that mages are supposed to wrapped up in. But sometimes I just like to sit and put things in order. And if there are plans that need to be made, or inventories checked, that's what I do. It's actually quite relaxing." 

He paused, and put a thoughtful hand to his chin.

"On the other hand, I do have a reoccurring dream in which I arrange boxes on a long room full of shelves." 

"Really?"

"No. Not really." Slayn turned his lips up in what Etoh could have sworn was a smirk, but it was gone in a second.

"How did you ever meet Ghim, anyway?" Etoh asked, feeling a little cheerier. There was definitely a greater sense of camaraderie between them now, much better than the awkward silence in which they had walked away from the village the night before. So there was a silver lining in every inconvenient, ridiculous side-quest.

"Oh, that was in Neese's temple, actually, back before I went to school. There was a plague going around; the healers had their hands full, and the rooms were packed. So we wound up sharing one. It wasn't actually the best way to meet someone – I was very ill, and not thinking very clearly, so our conversation took some odd turns – "

It probably would have been an interesting story. Or, better yet, it would have been relaxing. Walking along, listening to Slayn, building friendship, and not having to fight for his life. Unfortunately, right about then, the two of them rounded the top of the last hill, and could see straight down to the village below. And there didn't seem to be much call for chatting after that.

Devin and his two brawny bodyguards were sitting in a heap midway down the hill. Devin appeared to be snoozing between his two lackeys, but they elbowed him from either side, and he leaped to his feet.

"Huh-whuh? I mean – Ha! And again, I say 'Ha!' You thought you could fool me, but I knew that you'd come back this way, you so-called heroes! I used my incredible powers of magic to predict exactly when and where you'd return!" 

"But Boss, we sat out here all night," countered the bodyguard on the left, yawning. He was distinguished from his twin on the right only by his scuffy blond hair.

"Yeah. And this is the only road into town. You said they had to come back this way eventually," said the twin, rubbing his eyes and smoothing down his scruffy brown hair.

"And we were all gonna attack them and knock them out so that we could take all the credit for beating the goblins," finished the blond one.

"Shut up, shut up!" Devin shrieked, jumping up and down in his fury. Etoh thought that he'd never heard such an efficient summing up of evil plots in his entire life. If only Karla would just hire a couple of dim, talkative bodyguards, their job would be so much easier. 

"It's over, Devin. We've figured it out what you're doing. Hand over the stone, and this can end peacefully." Slayn stood with his shoulders squared, one foot slightly in front of the other, staff aimed down at the faux mage. It was like a pose right out of the old "Six Heroes" paintings, and Etoh had a sudden vision of Slayn as a statue, standing proudly in some academy courtyard long after they were all dead. He wondered why. It's not like any of them were terribly important.

"What…what stone? I don't know what you're talking about!" Devin snapped, but he'd grown a few shades paler.

"Yeah, what stone?" asked the brunette lackey, sounding confused rather than defiant.

"Not now, Franz," Devin muttered out of one side of his mouth.

"And," Slayn continued. "We know that you tried to use the goblins to take it. And now you're using them to further your own reputation." 

"Working with those filthy –" Devin stopped and spluttered for words. "I'd never be associated with such disgusting creatures! You! You're the ones! You associate with inferior races like elves and dwarves! You're the ones who are in league with the goblins!"

"Where are our friends, anyway?" Slayn asked.

"Back at the-er, I mean…you'll never know, if you don't cooperate." Devin tried to look sly. "In fact, if you don't turn yourselves in and admit that you've joined up with the goblins, I'll kill them!"

"But boss, isn't killing hostates kind of bad?" asked the blond lackey. He and the brunette did not seem to be bad, exactly, or even under a spell. Just very, very stupid, and easy prey for Devin's twisted "logic."

"It's not bad if the hostages are evil! And they are!" Devin argued back.

"Look, we don't associate with goblins," said Etoh calmly, just as Woodchuck caught up with them, still dragging V'gol behind him.

"Hey, has the fight started yet?" He asked, as Slayn gave another long-suffering sigh.

"Ha! See! You've joined forces with the goblin leader! Just like I knew you would!"

"Oh, nooo…it's our prisoner." Wood pointed out, while V'gol helpfully held up it's tied hands.

"Yeah, it sure does look like they took it prisoner, boss. Just like you asked, boss," pointed out the blond lackey.

"Shut up, Hanz!"

"But-"

"Okay, fine! So you've brought the goblin leader back, just like I knew you would!" 

"Wait-"

"What-" The two bodyguards were bright enough to notice the discrepancy in what their leader said, but not quite bright enough to work out what it might mean.

"It doesn't matter, because the town will never know who really saved the day. Hanz, Franz, get them!" Devin ordered.

"But….boss…"

"Hanz. Franz. I'm always right. Now get them." Devin point imperiously at the group, and the two bodyguards shrugged and charged. Driven by some kind of shared instinct, Etoh, Woodchuck and V'gol all immedietly ducked behind Slayn, who didn't waste breath on sighing, but fired off two quick sleep spells at the burly twins. Neither even broke stride.

"I think you'll find my men are made of sterner stuff than your puny little academy magic can handle!" Devin cackled, while Slayn looked blankly at his hand, as though searching for evidence of some kind of misfire. Then, thinking quickly, he shouted a single word and a bright flash of light burst in front of them. Etoh understood the strategy – they would have a few seconds while Devin and his body-guards staggered around half-blind. Unfortunately, he thought as he pressed both palms into his stinging eyes, Slayn hadn't had the time to warn his own side, and they were going to waste those precious seconds staggering around half-blind themselves. Beside him, he heard Slayn shouting out another spell – this one to freeze an enemy in his tracks and hold him immobile. 

"Slayn, I don't think that's work-ooof!" Woodchuck began, and was cut off as the blond lackey, Etoh saw as the spots cleared in front of his eyes, barreled into him. They both crashed to the ground. The brunette was staggering towards Slayn, and Etoh knew that he only had seconds to act. Even if magic wasn't working on the bodyguards, Slayn was still their most valuable asset at the moment. He had to protect Slayn! 

So he threw himself in front of the hulking brunette, before he had a chance to reconsider. He squeezed his eyes shut in the second before impact, and then felt the forces of a bull – no, a dragon – smash into him and slam him to the ground. He opened his eyes, and saw, through a haze, the bodyguard's meaty face grinning down at him.

"Gotcha!" said Franz, beaming like a child who's won a game of tag. "Now say you lose!" Now what to do? He was spared the question, as below them Devin began to shout.

"Hanz! Franz! Forget them, get back up down here and save me!" Forgotten in the confusion, V'gol had dashed down the hill and tackled the magician. Hands still bound together, it had grabbed Devin by the collar and was shaking him like a dog with a rabbit.

"Give me the stone, you bastard, I know you have it!" V'gol shrieked, barely intelligible in its rage.

"Damn it, I knew I should have tied that thing's feet again!" Wood snapped, jumping to his feet, but looking a little relieved as Hanz abandoned him, and went to his master's aid. 

As Hanz and Franz lumbered back down the hill, Devin got a grip on himself, planted a hand on V'gol's chest, and fired off a force spell that sent the goblin flying. It landed on it's back and skidded through the weeds, alive and snarling. The two bodyguards stopped halfway down the hill, and stared at their master, now uncertain what to do.  
"Um, boss…do you still want us to –"

"Never mind about me, you idiots! Get them! Get the heroes!"

"But you said – "

"Get them! Now!"

But by this point, it was too late. Etoh had seen his chance, surprised at his own audacity, dashed down the hill towards Hanz' unprotected back. He swung his scepter, and brought it down hard on the back of the burly man's head. 

"Please don't turn around and laugh it off, please don't turn around and laugh it off…" Etoh prayed, in the second between impact and reaction. "Please just fall over.." Slowly, Hanz reached up to feel the knot on the back of his head, and Etoh swung again. Hanz turned around, taking in his attacker. He laughed. Etoh weighed his options, then bolted. 

He wasn't entirely sure where he was going – he went down hill simply because it was faster. There didn't seem to be much help coming from either companion. Woodchuck had leapt onto Franz's back, hooking one arm around his neck and using the other hand to punch at him. The bodyguard swung around in circles like a dog chasing its tail, unable to get a good enough grip on the thief to toss him away. Woodchuck would probably be able to strangle Franz into unconsciousness, and it would also probably take a good while. 

"This would be so much easier if I could just fucking stab him!" Wood muttered as Etoh sprinted past. Slayn was striding down the hill towards the one opponent against whom magic would work, holding his staff out in front of him. The effect was intimidating, even without actual spell-casting. Devin blanched and scrambled backwards, reaching for his own staff. 

"Help! Help! The goblins are attacking again! The Marmo spies have joined forces with them! Come defend your town and your leader!" he began to scream, as Etoh ran between him and Slayn (never a good idea – there was a common proverb about the dangers of crossing between dueling wizards) with Hanz lumbering a few paces behind. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw people start trickling out of their houses. That killed the only idea Etoh had had so far – running into the village and losing the body-guard among the houses. Now he ran that way, he'd just get ripped apart by the mob. Well, enough. This was ridiculous, and it wasn't helping anything. And worst, he was acting like a coward when his friends were putting themselves in harm's way. That wasn't how Parn would handle the situation. 

"No, Parn would get his fool head torn off," Jardin said helpfully, "Just like you're about to." Well, to hell with it. Etoh turned around to face his opponent, holding his scepter out in front of him. It was mighty last stand time. Hanz skidded to a halt in front of Etoh, a little confused at his prey's change of heart. 

Then before he even had a chance to flinch, V'gol ran past, snarling and ugly, making a bee-line for Devin again. Hanz turn in the direction of the goblin, looked back at Etoh, made his slow decision, and ran to snag V'gol. The two began grappling, V'gol frantically trying to get free and jump at Devin, but weakened by the bright sunlight. Etoh stood panting, unable to believe his luck. And his incredible uselessness, he realized. However this ended, it was given that he wouldn't even fell one opponent. 

Meanwhile, the trickle of villagers had gotten stronger. Shouting that the "heroes" were Marmo spies after all, and that Devin must be protected, they poured up the hillside towards the group. Etoh looked over at Slayn, and Woodchuck, rolling off of the finally-toppled Franz, was doing the same.

"Slayn! What about that distraction?!" 

Slayn seemed startled, looking up from his stand-off with Devin, and noticing the crowd that was getting closer.

"Ah, yes…" He stepped back from Devin, chanted softly, and raised his arms skyward. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen. 

And then, the clouds seemed to glitter as, flashing in the sunlight, gold coins poured out of the sky like rain. They were soft like rain, as well, bouncing harmlessly off people rather than leaving the bloody hole that a metal disc falling from such a height would normally leave. The villagers, given a choice between defending their "wiseman," or spreading out blankets to catch this sudden good fortune wisely chose self-interest. The crowd still hovered near Etoh and the others, but were no longer the slightest bit interested in them, no matter how Devin cursed and raged at them. Apparently any kind of influence that the Fallen Star exerted over the villagers was only so strong. Hanz and V'gol, however, continued to punch at each other, looking like festival players in the midst of the distracted crowd. Wood gaped up at the sky for a moment, then turned to give Slayn a thumbs up.

"Slayn, that is the best spell ever."

"It's not real. In fact, it'll all turn to mud within a day," Slayn replied evenly. Wood scowled.

"Slayn, that is the worst spell ever."

Slayn did not get a chance to reply. Devin, finally gathering his wits about him, flung his hand out and chanted quckly. The same stun spell that Devin had used on the goblin blew Slayn backwards off his feet and tossed him into the tall grass. 

"Oh, shit!" Wood snapped, looking in the direction that Slayn had been flung. He turned back to Devin, unsheathing the large dagger that he kept belted at his side. "That's it! Fuck this hero nonsense, I'm just gonna kill you." He drew back his arm to toss it, and was hit with the same stun spell, flipping him up and back.

Devin scrabbled to his feet, panting, sweaty, and triumphant. Etoh gulped, looking between the faux mage (with disturbingly effective spells) and his fallen comrades, then down at the scepter in his hands. Hell. Someone had take get the job done. And while Devin was too busy being proud of himself to remember that there had been three of them, Etoh charged. The first swing caught the wizard upside the head and knocked him to the ground. He held his hands up in a pleading gesture as Etoh raised the scepter again.

"I'll kill your friends! My men will –"

"Shut _up!_" Etoh bellowed, surprised he could even do such a thing, and brought the scepter down squarely atop the magician's head. Devin's eyes rolled back and he slumped over, mouth hanging open.

"Oh, Falis, please don't let me have killed him!" Etoh prayed, feeling for a pulse as his anger drained away. He had never done such a thing before. Everyone else in the party treated it like it was routine – even Deedlit, who clearly found it distasteful, and Slayn, whose spells were usually non-lethal. Etoh had swung his scepter to wound, but never to murder – maintaining what Woodchuck dryly called his "violence-virginity." He was relieved to feel a pulse beating under his fingertips. He'd probably be called upon to kill eventually, but did not want his first to be done needlessly and in anger. He began riffling through Devin's robes, feeling like either a pervert or a thief, and embarrassed either way. There were costume amulets hanging around his neck – the kind of meaningless metal symbols that were sold by shady vendors that assured their dark, mystic powers – but no stone. Etoh reached gingerly into the multiple pockets, pulling out a squishy tomato, half-eaten sandwiches, a small copper flask, and a handful of dirty miniatures. No stone. It had to be somewhere on him. Devin had acknowledged that the stone was what they were all beating each other up for. He patted his hands along the magician's body, wincing in distaste at the contact. Of course, he felt the hard lump of rock in the one place that he prayed he would not.

Etoh looked hastily from side to side, and then, now feeling entirely like a pervert, slid his hand down the front of Devin's pants. He wrapped his hand around the stone and yanked it out, trying not to think about the soft parts he brushed against. 

Then, the Fallen Star was in Etoh's hands, and he stopped thinking about anything else.

Sights and sounds around him faded, like a dream. Everything was suddenly moving much more slowly. Etoh realized that things looked dim because he himself was shining bright, like a star in the sky. Or better yet, the sun, king of the stars above, suitable for a priest who served the king of the gods. There was a radiance welling up inside him, not just heat and light, but purity and joy. It was the presence of his god, and he was a holy vessel for the power to flow from. He could convert all of Lodoss this way. He only had to pass by, and people would see the beams of light flashing out of his eyes and ears, his teeth, and they'd change their ways without him ever having to say a word. They'd all been wrong about the stone. It didn't grant wishes, it was the holy power of Falis, waiting for a suitable carrier to share it with the world. It was well-shaped for it's task – a rough-hewn chunk of granite, not the glittering jewel that most people would expect. It was exactly like Etoh himself. Flawed, unfinished, but filled with grace. He'd bring purity back to the island, and lift the curse, and then no one would have to be unhappy ever again.

"Right. And you're the chosen one to bring them grace. Like you'd ever be good enough," came Jardin's cold voice, and it stung a little. Just a little. It was far off and distant, just like everything else. He turned away and began to walk – no, float, because he was too sacred to touch the ground now – through the crowd. 

"It's the stone, you idiot!" Now Jardin was actually yelling, actually sounding alarmed, "It's got a hold of you! Don't you remember what Slayn said?!"

No, no, silly Jardin. Etoh suddenly felt no hatred towards the mental voice, or even the bully that had left such an imprint. He wanted to reach back in time and pat the young man on the head. Etoh was incapable of feeling hatred, or anger, or sadness or doubt, because he was' Falis holy vessel. 

"You think you're better than the rest of them! You know that you're weak and cowardly and stupid, so you take refuge in being _good_, and you look down your nose at the rest of the world!" Jardin argued, but he was getting fainter and fainter. The energy had folded around Etoh like a cloud, muffling out everything he didn't want to hear, because the world really was nasty, wasn't it? His right hand tingled where the stone was pouring energy into him. 

Slayn was wrong. People didn't have to be content with little things if they could wish for whatever they wanted. That was just a selfish, cowardly way of looking at the world. He could bring salvation back to the island.

He could finally stop being so shy and unsure. He wouldn't have to stand in the corner at dances, and hide in his meditations when the others were making small talk. 

He could finally be strong and brave, just like Parn. No, better than Parn. Better than all the rest of them. After all, he'd been chosen, hadn't he? Because he was so good.

Because he didn't want it for him. It was for Falis. He was just a vessel, a messenger. He was Falis' humble servant – 

And then Etoh stopped, suddenly unsure, remembering where he had heard words like that before. His third year at seminary, one of the upperclassmen had healed Duchess Elaine, Prince Jester's cousin, of a dangerous ailment. The prince had honored the student at a special ceremony, and boy had talked at length about how he really didn't deserve the award, he had only done it through the grace of Falis, and all glory belonged to Falis alone.

Except that the student hadn't seemed willing to step down and actually let Falis have a little of that glory. He'd talked like a showman, making sweeping gestures, flashing his white teeth, shaking his head so that his blond curls fluffed like a halo around his head. "No matter what amazing things _I_ have done, I ask that you do not look to me," and he had pressed a hand against his chest, ensuring that the audience would look at him, "for all _I_ have done, I have done through the grace of Falis alone, who has chosen _me_ to be his humble servant." And then the student had turned, swirling his pristine white robe out behind him, to kneel before the god's statue in Jester's court and lead the audience in a prayer.

That wasn't humility, and it wasn't worship, Etoh had thought, guilty at being so bold as to criticize a fellow student. The upper-classman hadn't been giving glory to Falis, he'd been giving it to himself. And that was exactly what Etoh was doing – reveling in that special feeling of being chosen, of being good enough, and pure enough for the god to send his power through him.

This power, it wasn't Falis. It was too big, too showy. It was the stone, of course, feeding conveniently on Etoh's desire to do good. 

But now that Etoh knew that, he could surely give it up, right? He felt it digging into his palm, and saw his fingers clenched, white-knuckled, around it. No, he was no less susceptible than anyone else. He had to get rid of it, right away. His first instinct was to drop it on the ground, but then someone else would scoop it up. He could give it to Slayn, but that would be passing along the burden to someone else. Slayn couldn't carry the stone with him on their journey, no matter how harmless he said it was. They'd fight over it, and the last thing that the party needed was more friction.

And then, Etoh heard that quiet little voice at the back of his head. Not Jardin. It was the voice that stayed with Etoh all day, every day, whether he was worshipping at temple, or being chased by gargoyles, or standing in a little village with goblin brains splattered across his robes. It was with him even when Etoh couldn't save a patient, no matter how diligently he prayed. It was the voice that told him that everything was going to be all right, however chaotic the world seemed. It was Falis, the voice of his god.

And it was telling him that he should give the stone to the goblin.

And Etoh wondered if he might be mis-hearing that quiet little voice.

This wasn't right, the goblin was nasty and vicious and proud. It had only allied with them because they'd had it tied up most of the time. Surely it would use the stone to take revenge, and that couldn't be allowed, no matter what Devin had done to it. 

But the voice was insistent. And Etoh remembered how those jagged grey lines, conflict and confusion, had flickered near constantly around the goblin's aura as it told its story. V'gol was petty and mean, but more than anything, it was confused. And it wouldn't waste a wishing stone on revenge when all it wanted was to sort out the mess that the sorcerer had made of its mind. It was a simple wish, and more harmless than anything Parn's party would do with the stone. Besides, out of all of them, it was the goblin - now stuck in a confused limbo between its own way of life and the human way of life – that might actually _need_ the stone.

Besides, Falis said that it was the right thing to do. Etoh was a priest, and listening to that quiet little voice was what he did. He wasn't going to let some cursed rock overcome his faith, no matter how tightly he might currently be gripping it. 

Hanz and the goblin were still locked and combat, V'gol kicking the bodyguard in the back like a child throwing a tantrum. It did not look like a creature that deserved to have its wishes granted, but Etoh had made up his mind. If there were consequences, he'd deal with them. He crossed to it, and tapped it on the shoulder. This was possibly the worst thing to do in a battle. Without looking, V'gol swung one fist back in an arc, and clocked Etoh across the face. And even as the force of the blow knocked Etoh off his feet, he grabbed that swinging fist and shoved the Fallen Star into it. The goblin slid off the body-guard, and hit the ground at the same time that Etoh did. 

Etoh couldn't see or hear anything for a moment. All that power had gone rushing out of him, and it had left a hollow so large that Etoh was surprised he didn't collapse inward. There was a horrible, aching grief where the power should have been, and he was suddenly convinced that his god had forsaken him. And then, just as suddenly, the feeling of grief was gone, washed away in a tide of shame. He'd been completely overcome by the power. He'd been so damn sure of himself, he hadn't even realized what the stone was doing to him. Holy vessel of Falis, indeed. He stared at the ground for a moment, then pushed himself glumly onto his knees. Hanz had, with the distraction of V'gol gone, noticed his fallen boss. He ran over, and Etoh could faintly hear him begging the prone sorcerer for orders. Meanwhile, the golden shower was starting to dry up, and villagers were beginning to come to their senses. Time to get this stupid battle wrapped up, and get out of this stupid village that had wasted a full day of their time. Then he looked up. 

Where the goblin had stood, there was now a woman who looked to be in her early thirties, judging by the few wrinkles creasing an otherwise pretty face. Her body was stocky and muscular, but her femininity asserted itself through the cloud of wavy brown hair around her face, and the curves of her bust, which polite men would call "generous." She was cupping a breast in either hand, and squeezing them curiously, as though trying to draw even more attention to them. 

"I don't understand," she muttered. "I'm not pregnant, am I?"

Etoh opened his mouth to ask where she'd come from, then realized that she was wearing V'gol's clothing. And after all, they never had asked the goblin its gender. They'd just assumed.

"V…V'gol?" he ventured. The woman turned to him, still clutching her chest in a way that made him awfully uncomfortable. 

"Say, priest-boy, why do I - ? Oh, that's right. Human woman always have these things, don't they? We goblins only get 'em when we have children," the woman was saying. 

"Could you please not do that?" Etoh asked, flustered. Her chest-kneading was hypnotic, even for a man who'd sworn off lustful thoughts.

"What, is it not polite or something? Hey, what am do you call these again? Goblins just call them 'bouncy things', but the only word I'm getting from Devin's memories is 'tits', and I don't think that's exactly respectful."

"They're breasts. Please stop touching them."

"Oh, all right." V'gol finally turned her attention elsewhere, patting curious hands at her now-human face. "God, I feel hideous. What's happened to me? What's this?" She held up the stone in her hand, then gasped, and clapped her other hand possessively over it.

"You're not taking this rock away from me, hero!" she snarled, looking suddenly like her old self again. "After all the grief I've gone through, I think – "

"I don't want it," Etoh interrupted quickly, holding his hands up. "I gave it to you because Falis told me to." Of course, it sounded silly when he said it out loud.

"Oh, you and your funny made-up gods," V'gol rolled her eyes, shoving the stone into her pocket as Etoh bit back a retort. "So, what the hell has this thing done to me? It was supposed to grant my wishes, right? I sure as hell never wanted to be a human." The instant the words left her mouth, her body suddenly twisted and flowed, until there was a goblin standing in front of Etoh again. 

"What th-? Wait , I didn't want – " As V'gol protested, she shifted back into human form. She stood holding her head for a moment, as though dizzy. "What the hell? Make this thing stop!"

"Well, it's trying to give you what you want. Do you want to be a human? Or would you rather stay a goblin?"

"I…I don't know! I never wanted to be a human! I liked being a goblin! I had my own little gang and everything, but….but now that I can think like a human, I don't want to go back to being one…Hell, you think I could be both?" And then comprehension dawned on her face.

"Waitamintue! I can be both! Because this thing grants wishes, right? This is great!" 

"Well, I'm..uh…glad that you're happy. So, just as long as you keep using the stone to transform, and don't start doing anything…you know, evil, now –" Etoh was interrupted by a voice behind him.

"Holy shit, you're a chick!" Woodchuck clambered back onto his feet, and figured things out very quickly. "We didn't think you were a chick."

"I don't think that's exactly a respectful word, either," V'gol said primly. "I may be kind of ugly now, but there's no need to be vulgar. You prick."

"So, just how much of your charming personality was Devin responsible for again?" Wood sneered. 

"You're not ugly," Etoh put in. "For a human woman, you're quite pretty."

"Even with these?" V'gol made a face as she pushed up her chest with one arm. Etoh began staring fixedly at a point just above her head. "See, goblin males and females look pretty much alike, and the only difference is when a female gets pregnant. Then she's saddled with these ugly, annoying things for a couple of years while she nurses the kids."

"No, er…those are…well, human women always have them, but humans consider them to be part of a female's beauty. An..umm.. important part, actually," Etoh said haltingly, silently willing Woodchuck to jump in at any moment with his usual vulgar candor. Anything that would take the burden of explanation off of him. But Wood was more interested in V'gol's sudden transformation.

"So wait, why are you human now? Did I completely miss something?" 

"I gave her the Fallen Star, and it granted her wish." Etoh supplied.

"You gave it to it – I mean, her?!" The priest nodded quietly, not wanting to give the "Falis' orders" explanation. Wood would not react any better than the goblin – probably worse, in fact.

"Yep, he gave it to me," said V'gol smugly, patting an inner pocket that she'd slipped the rock into. "His magic god in the sky told him to, or something like that." Wood shot a disgusted look at Etoh, and opened his mouth – but whatever scolding he might have given was cut off.

"Hey, just what the hell is going on here?" It was Hanz, now realizing that his master wasn't going to get up anytime soon, and that his partner was down for the count. "Did…did the bad guys just win, or what…?"

"We're not really the bad guys," Etoh began. "Devin's been trying to trick you all-"

"Devin? Devin couldn't trick his way out of a cloth sack!" That was one of the villagers. Most were still hunched protectively over their "gold," but a few were starting to notice the remains of a battle lying around. Out of the corner of his eye, Etoh saw Slayn sit up and begin to brush himself off. He wondered whether he'd be up to casting the spell again, should they have to grab their friends and exit at a run.

"And yet he's been your town sorcerer for the last, oh, how many weeks?" Wood pointed out. The villager frowned thoughtfully.

"Well, yeah, Devin's the smartest….No, what the hell am I saying? I mean, Devin's the greatest – wait, no he's not. Why the hell am I wanting to say nice things about him?"

"Because you've been under a spell. Devin has been using magic to control you all." Now Slayn came forward, lending an air of dignity and legitimancy to their explanation despite the grass stains on his robe. "He made you love and trust in him, and he used the goblin attacks to make himself look better." Slayn snuck a glance at the newly-human V'gol, and then raised an eyebrow at Etoh. 

"Fallen Star," Etoh mouthed at him, hoping he'd understand. The eyebrow rose even higher, then Slayn gave him a curt nod, and turned back to the crowd.

"Hey, what about those attacks? Didn't you guys bring back the leader?" Another village, a woman this time. "We should at least be able to punish him for all the damage that's been done."

"But you see," Slayn protested, "The goblins were being controlled just like you. They had no choice over – "

"Oh, c'mon. Goblins are goblins."

"Right. They're nasty, vicious creatures."

"They'd have probably attacked us, anyway."

"And we know you brought the leader back, we saw him!"

"Well…" Slayn improvised, looking nervous and out of his element. "The creature must have slipped away during the battle, so –"

"Then why is she wearing his clothing?" The woman who'd spoken earlier shook a finger at V'gol, who flinched backward, looking ready to bolt. "What is she, human or goblin? Cause if she's a goblin, we'd haveta -" The woman finished her sentence with the grotesque arm-raised-head-bent pose that meant hanging, complete with an open mouth and tongue lolling out. Woodchuck grabbed V'gol by the arm before she could run, and shoved her forward to face the crowd.

"We can handle this," he muttered to her. "Just act like a victim." 

V'gol glared at him, then back at the crowd, wilting at the sight of so many unfriendly faces. Deciding to follow orders, she clasped a hand against her chest, and laid the back of the other hand against her forehead, swaying like a romantic heroine about to faint.

"Alas! Oh woe is me, the misery that I've been through! My sweet, pure maiden's heart is breaking–"

"Okay, that's over the top," Wood said out of the side of his mouth. He stepped up, and put both hands on her shoulders, as though sheltering a frail, delicate maiden from the harsh world.

"Friends," he announced theatrically, "I know what you're thinking. This is, indeed, the same goblin that once terrorized your village. But she was never a goblin at all!"

"Now who's over the top?" muttered V'gol. Wood dug his fingers into her shoulders a little harder, and she shut her mouth, wincing.

"She looked like a goblin to me," one of the villagers near the front of the crowd put in.

"That's because she was transformed. Yes, cursed, by a wicked magician, because she scorned his advances. Cursed by…" Wood let a tense dramatic pause build, interrupted by the same villager:

"Cursed by who, now?"

"Oh, for gods' sake," Wood snapped, dropping the entire showman demeanor. "It was Devin. That guy over there. He turned her into a goblin because she wouldn't love him. Then he tried to have her killed by sending us out. Fortunately, experienced heroes like ourselves-"

"Why'd she attack the town?" The villager, a portly man with a dignified smattering of grey in his hair and beard, was on a roll. 

"I'm sorry!" V'gol cried, before Wood could respond. She pulled away from him to stand alone before the crowd, hands clasped sincerely in front of her. "I didn't mean to hurt any of you! I was just trying to get to Devin, so that I could make him change me back! I was just scared and confused. And pure and virginal, that too! Then the other goblins followed along after me, I couldn't stop them. They've gone back to the mountains now, and I promise they'll never bother you again." There was anguish in her voice and tears in her eyes. Goblins were apparently fast learners. "Oh, please forgive me!"

A murmur ran through the crowd, then a few felt the need to air out grievances.

"Yeah well, who's going to pay for all my sheep? Those goblins ripped through most of them-"

"She burned my house down!"

"Broke my arm – "

"Ate my dog – "

"People! C'mon, this isn't so bad. No one actually got killed, did they?" Wood held up his hands to plead with the villagers.

"Well…..no, guess not…." A few scattered voices admitted. 

"I'm sure this poor, abused girl here would gladly pay for the damages you've received-" V'gol glared back at Wood for making promises in her name, "But I think she's suffered enough, right? We all know where the blame really lies." And he cast a disapproving look at Devin, who was conveniently not awake to defend himself. 

And the villagers turned to look as well, and then, like magic, the grumbling started. Devin had always been up to no good, Devin kept getting kicked out of the one tavern in town. Devin was a lazy jerk. Devin had turned his prize milk cow into a frog, one farmer declared, and a barmaid complained that he had always been grabbing at her. As the villagers filed over to surround Devin, Woodchuck breathed a sigh of relief, and sidled back out of the spotlight towards Etoh and Slayn.

"I love having a scapegoat," he said. "It makes everything so much easier." Etoh wanted to argue about the under-handedness of it all, but had to admit that a certain justice was being done. V'gol still stood where she had been, not quite ready to believe that the crowd wasn't going to rip her to pieces.

"Um….okay, then. Sorry about all the trouble!" She called, waving awkwardly.

"It's okay, miss, we know it wasn't your fault," the portly grey-beard called back. "This fellow, he's always been a bad egg."

"Hey, you're not going to kill him, are you?" Etoh stepped up, worried by the way the mob had closed around Devin.

"No, no, no," answered grey-bread. "Give us credit for being a little civilized. We haven't got a justice here, so we'll take him up to Edlan for trial We'd never just execute someone in that frontier justice style. Except for goblins and dwarves and elves. They're filthy beasts."

V'gol folded her arms, scowling, but kept her peace.

"Speaking of which," Slayn walked over to address the grey-beard, "Where are our friends?"

"Oh, sorry, sir! We didn't mean your two friends when we were talking about filthy beasts. Famous heroes like them makes you believe that there's some good in the inferior races. Why, they're almost human!"

"And they are….where?" Now that the half-assed fabrication part was over, Slayn had become the group's unofficial spokesperson, because Etoh couldn't be as authoritative, and Woodchuck was incapable of not looking sleazy. 

"Oh, back at my inn. We put them to bed until that spell wears off. Gave them a private room and everything, and I won't even charge you for it. Since you're such famous heroes, after all."

"Yes…famous heroes…" Etoh felt his ears burn.

"Yes…famous heroes who saved your whole village…" Now Wood was looking dangerously speculative. "And since we're monster-hunters by profession, all that's left now is to discuss the bi-"

He shut his mouth again as, in a moment of uncharacteristic violence, Slayn and Etoh both stomped on his right foot. 

"We work for free," Etoh announced, glad to have a moral upper hand. Besides, he knew that traveling with Parn, they would wind up in numerous situations like this, and he wanted to establish a precedent.

"Besides," Slayn added, "Devin is officially the one who hired us, and we don't expect him to be able to pay under these circumstances." 

"Fine. Don't blame me when we run out of funds for this fool's errand," Wood muttered, leaning slightly to the left. 

"They could have given the money to me, I'd have taken it," V'gol agreed. 

"You're lucky to be alive," Etoh reminded her under his breath, as the grey-bearded innkeeper began leading them back into the village.

Parn, Deedlit and Ghim had all been shoved into the same bed – Parn clutching the snoring Ghim in his sleep like an over-grown teddy bear, and the other arm flung across Deedlit, who had snuggled up to her knight.

"Maybe separate beds would be best," Slayn suggested.

"Oh, no, I think that they should wake up exactly like this," Wood smirked. "And we should be here to laugh at them when they do."

"Well, it could be any minute now, so I suppose there's no point," Slayn conceded.

But "any minute" stretched into ten minutes, then twenty, and V'gol pointed out to the innkeeper that none of them had had much to eat that morning. So they all went to breakfast.

They were surprised when Hanz and Franz, Devin's hulking bodyguards, slipped into the tavern as unobtrusively as two giant men could, and pulled up a bench across from them.

"Hey, um, listen…" ventured Franz uncertainly. He seemed to be the designated speaker, because he stumbled on, with Hanz muttering quiet agreement. "We're sorry about all that trying to kill you guys, earlier –"

"Real sorry," Hanz agreed.

"See, we thought that Devin was a good guy who was beating the goblins, and now it sounds like he's really the bad guy –"

"We didn't know that he was the bad guy –"

"Yeah, we thought he was good, so we thought we were doing the right thing, and it turned out we weren't, so we're, you know, sorry."

"Well, that's all right," Slayn said gently. They were clearly not the brightest stars in the sky, and, 'lackey' seemed to be a career for life as far as they were concerned. "You were probably just under the same spell as the townspeople." Hanz and Franz looked at each other nervously.

"Spell? Oh not, spells don't work on us –"

"Don't work at all – "

"And see, that's the other thing that we came here to talk about." Franz hunkered down low over the table, glancing nervously left and right, and continued in a stage whisper. "We'd appreciate it if you wouldn't say nothing about that to the other villagers. The way magic doesn't work on us. They'd get suspicious –"

"And mean. They can get real mean –"

"Yeah, mean. Cause we're strange like that. So please don't mention it. We don't want to get run out of town."

"Why doesn't magic work on you?" Slayn was fascinated, as usual. "Do you have any idea?"

"Well, it's cause we've got a bit of ogre in us."

"On our grandmother's side-"

"Yeah, she was really drunk. Poor granddad. I think he was scared half to death when it happened."

"Ogre, ey?" V'gol was now peering over the table at the two of them, eyes shining, a half-smile twisting her mouth. "I think I could get along really well with you two boys. I'm used to having lackeys around, and I think you're used to having a master. Or mistress, perhaps." Hanz and Franz looked delighted, and Etoh could imagine them as two giant puppies, ears pricked forward and tails wagging.

"You really mean it, lady?"

"You'd let us work for you?"

"Certainly," V'gol smirked. "I'd love to spend some quality time with you boys. After all, you know what they say about ogres." 

"No…what do they say about ogres?"

Even Etoh knew what they said about ogres, but he did not speak up. He was busy staring glumly into his coffee. Now that it was all over and done with, he couldn't shake the drained, depressed mood that had come over him from the moment he'd handed over the stone. Even the coffee, which he usually found soothing, left a bitter taste lingering in his mouth. Like failure. He'd almost let the power pick him up and carry him away, and he was the one group member that was supposed to be so humble, so pure. Slayn tapped him on the shoulder, and Etoh looked up into the concerned face.

"You seem down. Why don't we take some air?" Etoh nodded. They got from the table and found their way to the door. No one noticed them going – V'gol was chattering with Hanz and Franz about her plans to roam the island as the first ever Goblin Interpreter and Diplomat, while shooting coy looks to each in turn. Woodchuck, who had convinced the innkeeper to provide them with a free breakfast, was now trying to wrangle some free provisions out of him – since they were such "famous heroes." Outside, Etoh breathed in the morning air, tasting hints of the smothering heat that would come crashing down on them later in the day. It would be another long day of walking in soggy robes, but he probably wouldn't notice, he'd be too busy brooding over what a fool he was.

"So, who do you talk to when you've got something on your mind?" Slayn asked abruptly, leaning against the side of the tavern. 

"What?" 

"You're everyone's confidant, right? I've noticed. We all lay our burdens down on you. Where do you go to unburden yourself?"

"Oh, well. I pray."

"Does it help?"

"Sometimes." Etoh did not look at the sorcerer, concentrated on the children in the square that were running around, laughing, throwing pieces of the soft gold at each other. 

"Mmm-hmmm," was all Slayn would offer in response.

"It's all I've got, really. My faith. I'm not a very good fighter. I'm not strong. I'm not brave."

"Not brave? Etoh, you follow a hot-headed knight around with more loyalty than anyone else here, and you think you're not brave?"

"Well…"

"Etoh, listen. I've only been friends with Parn for a short time, and it's already worn me out. You've stuck by him his entire life, no matter what fool thing he goes rushing into. That's courage, and that's strength."

"Yeah…Yeah, I suppose." Etoh smiled a little. It was true that Parn had always protected Etoh from bullies, but when they ganged up on Parn himself, Etoh never left his side – even though his weak punches would be no help, and they'd both go home with black eyes. But he never could have run away. It had never even occurred to him. 

"Still, I feel terrible, Slayn. That stone…it made me think I was special. And holy. I was ready to run away with it."

"Do you not remember our discussion coming back to the village? The Fallen Star exerts a power over people – no one is immune. I wouldn't have trusted you with it, I wouldn't have trusted myself with it, and I was pretty sure that we'd have to knock Wood out if he took it. It's not something to be ashamed of. It's just human nature."

"Yeah. I just can't get over how arrogant I was when I had it. Like I was somehow purer than the rest of you, and wouldn't be affected it."

"Etoh, don't you realize what a great thing you've done? You held the stone, you realized what it was, and you gave it up. That's better than anyone else in this party could have done, including myself."

"Not really." Etoh shrugged.

"Try giving yourself a little credit for once. It took great strength of the spirit to handle things as well as you did." Etoh supposed that if humble Slayn, who was forever assuring them that his spectacular magic was nothing, really, told him to feel good about himself, he should consider it. But still…

"I'm still not sure that I made the right choice, though. I know that I shouldn't have the stone, and you say that you shouldn't, and it's not powerful enough to save Leylia for Ghim –"

Slayn shook his head, looking briefly regretful.

"-but what if Parn had it? It could help him become a great knight."

"Would it really? It didn't really help Devin become a great sorcerer, did it?" 

"Well, no…but Parn's different. He doesn't care about fame and fortune, he just wants to help people…." Etoh trailed off, thinking about everything he knew about his friend, and realized that he could answer his own question. "And Parn wouldn't want any kind of magical crutch to help him along the way…he'd want to become a great knight under his own power. No, it wouldn't work for him. Well, Wood might've used it. I don't think he'd be really dangerous with it - he'd probably just wish to be rich."

"I assume," Slayn replied with a smile. "But you know, I don't think the man would even know what to do with money if he had it. I bet he'd get bored." 

Etoh went on: "And I suppose Deedlit wouldn't want magic granting her what she wants…it wouldn't exactly be real then, would it?" Etoh was thinking about the way Deedlit snuck glances at Parn when she thought no one else was looking, the way she hovered over him, hurt when he snapped at her, but still patient and persistent. 

"You noticed too, did you?" Slayn said. "She is a bit obvious, but I don't think she cares if the rest of us figure it out, since we've all been good enough not to give her a hard time about it. I approve, personally. They'd make a good couple."

"If he ever really notices her. I love Parn like a brother, but even I have to admit that he's thick as a brick when it comes to romance."

"I think she'll wait him out if she has to. Elves can afford to take their time. Ghim once admitted to me that the patience of the elves might rival that of the dwarves. 'Might,' of course, but that's still high praise coming from Ghim." 

"Yeah. Well, best of luck to the two of them."

"Indeed," Slayn agreed. "And to yourself and the princess." Etoh jerked as though he'd been slapped. All Princess Fiana did with her soft dark hair and luminous eyes was make him feel uncomfortable. In all sorts of places.

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing, nothing. Forgive me, Etoh, I was just playing the eccentric sorcerer," Slayn said, although there was the ghost of a smile – no, a smirk – lingering on his face. He did not even react as a high-pitched shriek rang through the air. "Shall we go back inside? Deedlit must be up."

"You could have at least put us in separate beds!" an indignant Deedlit was saying to an amused Woodchuck as Slayn and Etoh came back in.

"But it was so much funnier to leave you as you were," he argued. She glared at him, ears set back.

"Gods, you're a horrible, disgusting man –"

"Hey, don't be yelling at just me. I'm not the one that arranged you that way. And those two could have moved you at anytime. You could at least yell at them, too." Wood pointed over at Slayn and Etoh. He did not look particularly intimidated by the elven wrath. 

"We're sorry, Deedlit, we intended to move you. It's just been a busy morning."

"Morning?" The elf's emerald eyes softened immediately, moved by Slayn's sincere apology. "Have I been asleep that long? What's been happening around here? And why do people keep calling me Celestina Wingheart?" 

They had never discussed what exactly would tell their companions. There hadn't been time. But some kind of unspoken agreement was reached, through significant glances and under-table kicks. They told Deedlit the 'official' version that they had told the villagers. V'gol, who was now going by Vaya, had been magically transformed into a goblin. 'Vaya' agreed, simpering and over-acting. When Parn woke up and came charging down the stairs expecting a fight, with Ghim stumbling after him ('Put that damn sword away! You don't' even know how to use it! You're insane!'), they got the same story. Etoh wasn't entirely sure why they were lying to their friends. He supposed they had to with the villagers present, but Slayn and Wood seemed to have no intention of spilling the real story later. He realized that he didn't, either. There just seemed to be no point. Explaining exactly what V'gol was would just start more arguments, and they were all tired of that.

Besides, their three companions did not press for detail. Parn, with the simple honesty that Etoh had always found so admirable in him, took the story at face value, congratulating them on a job well done. Ghim did not seem to care enough to think hard about the story, and was simply anxious to be on their way. Deedlit might have suspected. She threw sharp, intelligent looks between the 'pure-hearted' Vaya, and the mess on Etoh's robes, and frowned solemnly. She caught Etoh's eye and gave him a hard, questioning stare. He blushed, gave a guilty smile, and shrugged his shoulders. Deedlit stared at him a moment longer, then gave him a gentle smile, and returned her attention to breakfast. The message seemed clear. She knew that something in the story wasn't right, but it wasn't important. She wasn't going to press them. There was no point.

It all seemed to have turned out for the best. V'gol gave them a brusk good-bye at the tavern, promising that she was fnished with human meat, having found a viable substitute in adorable fluffy kittens. She intended to roam the island working as a human/goblin interpreters – negotiating settlements between goblin bands and human villages that would end with the fewest possible deaths. Nastiness, guile, and pride aside, she did not seem like an evil person. 

They left the village about an hour later, with their packs replenished and water-skins refilled – for free. Woodchuck looked particularly smug, but said nothing, just dropped back into his old position at the rear of the group, next to Ghim. Deedlit skipped easily ahead of the group, not seeming to notice the heat, and drinking in the beauty of the tall grass and rolling hills. Parn marched quickly, pressing the group to make up for the time they had lost, even as the sweat poured down his face and out of the kinks in his armor. 

And that left Etoh were he'd always been, herded into the middle, struggling to keep up with his faster, stronger friend. 

"And that's because you're weak, Etoh. You always have been," said Jardin, but it was soft. From a distance, just as it had been when he held the Fallen Star.

"Say what you want, Jardin. I know it's not true," Etoh thought back, and felt like for once, he really believed it. "You're just a bully whose made way too much of an impression on me. You're not important enough to stay with me like this. I'd rather save the memories for people I care about. So go away."

And, like magic, he did. The snide voice was silent, and Etoh still found that he had trouble remembering exactly what the bully looked like. It wasn't completely over, he knew. The voice would probably be back at his most troubled moments, to pester and belittle him. But pester and belittle would be all that he could do, because Etoh was damn aware which one of them was stronger.

He turned his face up to the sun, and enjoyed the light on his face, despite the oven-like heat around them. Maybe the map-makers of Lodoss had it right after all. 

Author's notes: Er, there are none, actually. This is the end. Finally. Thanks for reading! 


End file.
